


The Blank Club

by Deleted_User



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Autumn, Bullying, Childhood Friends, Crime, Dark Humor, Depression, Escapism, Gen, How Do I Tag, Human K1-B0 (Dangan Ronpa), Introspection, Mystery, Plot, Pre-Game Akamatsu Kaede, Pre-Game Amami Rantaro, Pre-Game Harukawa Maki, Pre-Game K1-B0 (Dangan Ronpa), Pre-Game Momota Kaito, Pre-Game Oma Kokichi, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Pre-Game Saihara Shuichi, Pre-Game Shinguji Korekiyo, Pre-Game Shirogane Tsumugi, Pre-Game Yumeno Himiko, Real/Fiction, Secrets, Symbols, Texting, lot of plot cuz i suck at fluff and flavor, my emo fantasy, or something, retro tech, themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-07 18:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 24,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21462256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deleted_User/pseuds/Deleted_User
Summary: SPOILERS FOR v3 KINDAPre-game AU. Shuichi hears rumors of a secret club at his school and decides to investigate. Along the way, he receives texts from an unknown number, breaks into a house, finds the culprit of a vandalism, faces off with his bully Kaito, tries to reconnect with his ex-best friend, and meets a lot of bizarre people with a lot of secrets. And of course, he solves some mysteries.Of course, it's a Pre-game AU, so you all know there's only one way this can end. Right?I wrote this story because there's a mystery in my life too. I wrote this story in a attempt to outline something I can't quite explain any other way.
Relationships: Harukawa Maki & Akamatsu Kaede & Amami Rantaro & Momota Kaito, Harukawa Maki & Momota Kaito, Harukawa Maki / Momota Kaito (referenced), Momota Kaito & Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi, Momota Kaito & Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi, Saihara Shuichi & Everyone, Saihara Shuichi & Yumeno Himiko, Shirogane Tsumugi & Saihara Shuichi, if you squint lol - Relationship
Comments: 11
Kudos: 134





	1. Act I - One

\----------------------

ACT 1 - THE SCARECROW

\----------------------

August 12, the first day of school.

Shuichi entered first period math and promptly took a seat at the back. As anybody who has attended public school would know, seats in the back row are high in demand and low in supply, so it's best to get one early. Shuichi pulled a book from his bag. He placed it in his lap. He then began arbitrarily setting notebooks, pencils, pens, across the desk, with absolutely no intention of using them.

He never would've looked up. The blue wave that gracefully crashed into the seat next to him piqued no interest. But everything, everything changed with a wordless interaction. The girl next to him placed notebooks, pencils, and pens on her desk and immediately pulled out her phone. She placed it on her lap.

She didn't tap it often. She scrolled. After all, she wasn't texting anyone or on social media. She was reading. Which was why she was suddenly interested when the boy next to her was reading as well.

Naturally, she didn't say anything. Not yet, it would be weird. The bell rang and class began. Syllabi were distributed down the rows. Being at the back, neither of them had any need to pay attention.

Shuichi noticed though. Among all the shuffling of papers, he heard an extra sound. One paper, presumably handed back from the person in front, landed on the desk. And then another paper fell. It was a small thing to pick up on, but pick up on it he did. Atop his class syllabus sat a small crumpled piece of paper.

He glanced around. Everyone was still bored and the teacher was still droning. No indication as to who tossed it onto his desk. So he quietly unfolded it.

It contained a phone number.

Shuichi's eyes widened. He finally lifted his gaze to the rest of the class. People gave him fake numbers all the time, but he got a genuine one without even asking. At least, it looked genuine. It wasn’t the John Cena one, loser line, or the rejection hotline. He’d already seen those enough to have them memorized. The only question of course, was who?

Who would take the time of day to pay attention to him?

* * *

Shuichi spent the rest of the day the same as before, reading in class. He noticed a few other people in his classes, enough to know their names, but not enough to talk to them.

Rantaro sat a few seats ahead of him in history. Gonta sat behind him in Art. Tenko took the front row in his english class.

At lunch, he sat alone outside under a tree. He didn’t mind though. More time to read. Or just sit, and be. It’s easy to forget you’re alive sometimes. Shuichi liked to forget. But then again, there’s always the allure that life has that pulled him back. So he sat outside, held his book down for a moment, and just looked. It was cloudy.

After the school day ended, he walked home. It was about a half hour walk. His books weighed heavy in his backpack, but that might be because of the addition of numerous detective novels and various Danganronpa merchandise. It was still the afternoon and the air was still warm. The concrete shone white in the sunlight. He preferred walking in the evening, it’s much nicer to be out in the deep purple blue lighting with cool air flowing with every breath. He usually didn’t have reason to ever be out that late though.

The metal Kyoko Kirigiri keychain swung as he walked.

* * *

That night, he tried texting the number. He liked to get to the point with things. Sometimes. Other times he didn’t.

Shuichi didn’t really know why either.

After finally finishing signing a pile of first-day sillabi, he took his hat off. It felt important, for some reason, to keep it on for certain occasions.

But for texting this mystery person, the hat stayed off. No particular reason.

Shuichi dropped onto his bed with a whump. He began tapping away.

[This is Shuichi. Uh, guy with the hat. I think we have math together, you gave me this number.]

Shit. What if somebody else gave him the number as a prank. Unfortunately, this was regular texting, and not an app where he could unsend the message. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. Seconds rolled off his shoulders, but no response.

The message was sent at 6:21pm. He picked up a book and started reading, only getting up every now and then for pretzels. Salty ones.

At eight he ate dinner with his family, then returned to his room. At ten, there still wasn’t a response. Shuichi sighed. “Probably left on read….” he muttered. Shuichi went to take a shower.

The water flowed down his back like rain flows out of the gutter. Except hot. Shuichi didn’t mind showering, he did so regularly, but didn’t really enjoy it either. Too much time to think, not enough time to think about things he wanted to think about. Like mystery novels. Speaking of,

The mystery person who sent the message. No. Cut it out, it was probably a stupid prank. Shuichi hopped out of the shower and toweled off. His hair was already messy, now it was messy and wet. Like Miu.

But then, at 10:34 pm, he checked his phone again. One notification.

[What an observation Shuichi! You must be as smart as everyone says! Ehehe~]

[sooooo i wonder, who do you think i could be, hmm?]

A handful of emoji were sprinkled across the message. And for some reason, Shuichi’s heart leapt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please keep readin cuz the story doesn't really start until chapter 2
> 
> ive been workin on this for some time and tbh it probably sucks because dreams are for suckers, this is based on a personal thing from my life. you see, i strongly believe that when i was 13 i was *supposed* to have an emo phase, but i didn't, so i gotta live it now. except i cant really so instead i have this story. it kinda sucks but if there's anything good in the world then maybe this story will help somebody else who was once like me.
> 
> i have like 6 chapters right now, and a bunch of the mysteries planned out cuz that's how mysteries work. i can't wait for shuichi to meet the club! but that's not till later.  
something something there's no deep themes here or anything
> 
> enjoy if you want to


	2. Act I - Two

The message sender still remained a mystery. However, they’d been texting a bit over the past few days; It was more notifications than he was used to. He actually stopped to look when his phone pinged, instead of just expecting it to be a software update.

In math, where he originally received the note, he would vigilantly scan the room. Kirumi Tojo—model student—took the front row, just ahead of him. He doubted it was her, but put it down as a possibility. While it would make sense for the mystery messenger to be near him, it wasn’t impossible for them to be somewhere else in the room so he made sure not to rule out any possibility. Of course, the number could belong to a different person than the deliverer, which broadened the list further.

Shuichi didn’t think about girls much. Or boys, for that matter. Sure, he may have had a minor crush on several classmates in the past, but nothing that ever amounted to anything, so he just stopped bothering. But with the possibility, the mystery… he couldn’t help but wonder.

Besides the mystery number, there weren’t a huge number of other developments.

“Hey! Shithara!”

Oh right. Only one person would be so stupid as to come up with that.

Kaito swaggered up to him, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. It was lunch, and he was just about to reach his usual tree. Before he was interrupted, of course. He stopped, but didn’t respond. Kaito grinned menacingly, and held out his other crooked hand.

“Cough it up. I’ll know if you’re bullshitting me.”

Shuichi rummaged through his bag and produced math homework, which Kaito promptly snatched. He clutched it and glanced over the whole thing.

“Nice. Knew I could count on ya, ‘sidekick’!” As Kaito rolled the last word, Shuichi grimaced. “And you didn’t fuckin bleed on it this time! I don’t really give a shit whatcha do with your wrists, but you really put me on the spot having to explain it last time.”

“Kaito, let’s go.”

The pair wheeled around to see Kaede, hand on her hip, giving Kaito a death stare. “Either say goodbye to your boyfriend or toss me your keys so I can take myself.” Kaito laughed in a way that was obviously pointed and ingenuine. “Heh, yeah, yeah.”

The two walked away without any words to him. Shuichi probably would’ve minded more, but Kaito’s homework was ludicrously easy. He just sighed and continued to his regular spot.

* * *

The second week of school was nearing its close, which meant clubs were starting soon. Shuichi stood, hands on the straps of his bag, staring at a collage of club posters on the outside wall of the school. One of those walls that are rough like acne, or gravel, the kind only really seen on the outside of buildings.

Most of the posters gave him no interest, but he had heard rumors of something very interesting.

The Blank Club.

While all the other clubs were recruiting, there was a single secret club. Only a handful of posters were put up, and they were all cryptic. And they usually didn’t stay up for long. Which was exactly what Shuichi was looking for now, although maybe it wouldn’t make sense to be with the others.

But then he saw something. It looked like trash, just a scrap of white paper. Except, there was a piece of blue painter’s tape on the back, and it lay just under the other posters. Shuichi gingerly pinched it and flipped it over.

The symbol was peculiar.

It depicted an eye, drawn as a circle with a line trailing off from the upper right. The eyelash, stabbed through the middle with a shorter line, took a quick 90 degree turn upwards. Within the eye itself, a single circular pupil bore into the viewer. The pupil was divided by a single diagonal line.

Below the symbol, a single phrase rest: “BEYOND WORDS.” Shuichi picked up the flyer.

* * *

Shuichi paused while walking home from another notification. He leaned against a stone wall, small vines trickling down its cracked face. The vines hung from foliage above, just enough to give some shade to stand in.

His heart jumped.

[Hey Shuichi. I have a question for you.]

His heart promptly proceeded to tie itself into several knots impossible with only three dimensions.

Mysteries? Usually no problem. But oh lord, this was a level of uncertainty he was not ready for. Is this a confession of love? Or is the person gonna tell him that he ran out of time figuring it out? Maybe they’re bored? Yeah. People always get bored of Shuichi. They probably realized what a loser he was and are saying a last goodbye.

Unless. The question is if he wants to go out on a date.

In which he says……

Yes? Probably? Yeah, probably yes. Shuichi hastily taps out a response, something like “ask away”, but to be completely honest he’s panicking just a little right now.

Or a lot. Maybe. He instinctively pulls down his hat.

There’s no response for a few minutes. He decides to continue home and check later. His heartbeat is vigorous the whole way home.

Dusk falls as Shuichi arrives home. Days must be getting shorter. The dark hue fades into evening as Shuichi boredly munches on dinner. It doesn’t taste like much.

The evening is a beautiful time. The world outside is black as a respectable cat, and with the door shut, Shuichi’s room may as well be the only thing in reality. Just a small, square room floating in an endless abyss.

The evening is utterly terrifying. The world outside is an inky void, full of horrors beyond comprehension. And the scariest one hides in the only room in existence with him. Himself, of course.

And to distract himself from the waiting, Shuichi took out the flyer he picked up earlier in the day. He copied the symbol down onto a page in his notebook. He had homework he really should be doing but… this was far more engaging.

A spiraling eye, pupil with a diagonal line halving it, the winged eyelash stabbed through the middle and sharply turning up. Shuichi had utterly no idea what the hell it meant. However, he did have one line of reasoning to go off of: the club needed a way to recruit members. And it had to relate to the fliers, because otherwise why put them out? Something on this piece of paper, something in the symbol needed to hold the clue. It was only logical.

“Beyond words…” he mused. The distraction was weakening, as he wasn’t getting anywhere, and found himself frequently glancing at his phone, sitting on the far end of his desk. Eventually he gave in and opened it.

His messenger only held two names. The mystery person, as he set their contact as, and Himiko Yumeno. Himiko Yumeno, who lived a block away from him. Himiko Yumeno, who had been his closest friend for a while in elementary school. But that was, of course, years ago. Himiko’s time on the science team grew more and more demanding and the two grew further and further apart over the years. She found new friends there.

The contact remained a relic of years long gone. Shuichi tried not to think about it too much. Her name, however, lingered in his messenger, as they’d texted a single time over the summer. Shuichi… didn’t want to think about that much either.

Shuichi opted to drop the mystery club for now. He put in his earbuds and decided it was finally time to start working. Himiko would’ve encouraged him to get his homework done, so…

* * *

Shuichi got out of the shower around 10:00pm. He was in bed shortly after. He was usually awake until unearthly hours of the night, but felt more tired today for some reason. To tell the truth, he had been edge all day since that message. Shuichi pulled the covers up and gazed at the ceiling. It was a peaceful quiet. Shuichi slowly shut his eyes.

The quiet was then shattered by a single ping from his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a sketch of the symbol, bc describing intricate but importantly specific designs with words is always janky and a picture can do it in like 1 second
> 
> so here's the big plot relevant thing! :0  
now the story can really begin as ya boi tries to figure out what it means  
im excited to start updating this story: my true emo fantasy
> 
> EDIT: crap the image inbed stopped working for some reason, just check it out here: https://i.ibb.co/WGxcd7h/20191117-122110.jpg


	3. Act I - Three

Shuichi blinked his groggy eyes open. He rubbed them. He leaned on his arms to reach over and pick up his phone. He opened it and immediately shielded his eyes with one hand. It shone at him aggressively, before he turned down the brightness to look closer. The light was now a comfortable blue glow, dancing on his face.

One message. From the mystery person. His heart threw itself off a cliff face.

[Do some people deserve to be alone?]

That was… not what he was expecting. Shuichi took a moment to respond. That’s both an odd and… vague question. Shuichi asked for clarification.

[What do you mean]

The symbol to signify the mystery person was typing went up, then disappeared, then reappeared, and after a minute, finally produced a paragraph.

[~i don’t mean like serial killers or anything. just….. are there otherwise normal people who just….. are meant to be alone?]

[Unless you live in isolation, you’re bound to have a few people you talk to, right? That’s true even for serial killers]

[Hehe. no, i mean… you always see people with boyfriends, best friends, close friends.]

[but what about somebody without anyone they’re close to?]

Shuichi’s body shuddered, he nearly dropped his phone. He sucked in a breath. It should be an easy question, right? If you don’t have anyone you’re close to, you find someone to be friends with. And there’s gotta be someone for everyone. He's heard that everywhere his whole life, it's only natural.

He didn’t believe in true love or anything naive like that. Just practically, it shouldn’t be hard to find someone to talk to, and eventually form a friendship.

And yet.

[It sucks if that’s the case, but you cant like force people to be friends]

[so because friendships develop naturally, there can just be natural losers? Hmm?]

That didn’t feel right either. He'd learned the harsh lesson that friendships can't be forced like they are in movies and tv. Many embarrassing memories reminded him of that. Friendships need to form naturally. Right? But there can't just be people who don't have the instinctual nature to do that—he didn't know why, that answer just felt wrong.

Shuichi’s stomach felt heavy. He rubbed his eyes. They probably skipped a few steps in their conversation. On the whole, it was just odd. So in the end, Shuichi decided to take a few steps back.

[Why do you ask?]

[Ehe, it’s nothing :P]

Shucihi didn’t consider himself a good liar. Nor did he consider himself good at reading people. Nevertheless, that message set off his bullshit detector. There was definitely something going on with… the mystery person. Whoever they were. He wasn’t sure why they brought it up if only to lie about it moments later, but… he guessed it was just another mystery.

[Alright]

[Feel free to talk if you feel bad, mystery human]

That should do it. Hopefully.

However, Shuichi knew this wasn’t over. Because whoever this mystery person was, they had given him two things. One, a clue as to their identity. And second, another mystery for him to solve.

* * *

‘Lost: One phone, held in a purple wallet case, one crack on screen. If found, please return to…’

Shuichi found himself back at the same wall, reading another poster. It was lunch, and he had nothing better to do. He’d forgotten his detective novel at home. Oh well. It gave him something to do, and the missing item posters almost felt like quests in a video game. Like Chiaki!

If anything, it was surprising how long Shuichi had gone without thinking about his favorite series, Danganronpa. Danganronpa Danganronpa Danganronpa. When the regular world felt nothing but bleak, he’d immerse himself in the world of fiction. The real world… sometimes, he didn’t really care for it.

And it didn’t care about him either.

He’d been trying to keep quiet about Danganronpa, though. Although it was insanely popular in certain circles, it still wasn’t enough to keep people from making fun of him for it. And if we wanted any… haha… *hope* of making friends this year, he would need to learn to live without it. For the uninitiated, it put people off. Quite a bit. Sometimes it wasn’t even the series itself, just his obsession with it.

Shuichi sighed. To himself. There was no one around, after all. This back wall of the school was incredibly uninviting. Its loathsome, beige-white surface was rough and uncomfortable. The whole area felt so lifeless.  
Shuichi really felt as if he was missing something. He fiddled with his hat.

He startled, as the bell rang. Lunch was over. Hand on his backpack strap, Shuichi left for his next class. He really hated passing periods. Three minutes where waves of students rushed by, all going different directions, some rushing, others delaying. Currents of people pushed and pulled him as he swam upstream through the crowd.

Himiko boredly trod through the stormy sea, going the opposite direction. Their eyes met for a second. Maybe a year or two ago they would’ve waved, but now Shuichi just awkwardly darted his eyes away. He didn’t stop to see if Himiko did the same. Maybe she didn’t even notice him.

He disliked seeing people he knew during passing. The other day he ran into Kaito. Or to be accurate, Kaito ran into him and grinned. Shuichi shuddered, but only a little. Fortunately Kaito didn’t say anything, though that was probably as he was accompanied by Maki.

The concept of “popular kids” never really made sense to Shuichi. In movies, they’re almost always depicted as assholes who can do whatever they want, for some reason. Maybe there was a little truth to it. Kaito was, in fact, an asshole.

But from their minimal interactions, Shuichi was able to identify the group of Kaede, Kaito, Rantaro, and Maki. Maki Harukawa was possibly the only reason the other three hadn’t burned down the school yet. Though Kaede was the clear leader of the group, none of them dared disagree with Maki. With no violence, only a deadly stare, Maki could make pretty much anyone shut up. And, as it so happened, served as 90% of Rantaro, Kaito, and Kaede’s impulse control.

Shuichi arrived at his next class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god i miss her so much


	4. Act I - Four

Clothes. Shuichi mostly stuck to a standard school-uniform-y look, save the hat. But he wanted something new. He had the hat because it served a purpose. He hated to admit it, but the main reason he had it was to keep his eyes covered. It also fit him nicely, which helped. But Shuichi wanted something new.

After school he had some time to kill, so he decided a wardrobe upgrade was in order. On the walk home he passed a small clothing store: Kiwi’s. He didn’t shop for clothes often, so he didn’t really know where to go. He didn’t really have anyone to ask either. He strode down the sidewalk and entered the store, bell tinkling as he opened the glass door. A bland store clerk didn’t greet him, which he was thankful for. The clerk did glance his way though.

Shuichi pulled his hat down. He was out of his element. What would he even buy? The school didn’t have a strict dress code, but it was supposed to be somewhat formal. He didn’t want to completely change his look. Hell, he didn’t even have a look. He had a hat.

Maybe it could just be something small. Just a small modification to his usual dress. But where to start? The hat, the hat was functional. Maybe he needed something else with function. It was nearing the autumn months, after all. Maybe a scarf? No, that’s too much. Gloves? Oh, like Kyoko!

He scrutinized himself slightly, but yeah, to look like Kyoko Kirigiri. He hadn’t any scars to hide, at least, nothing physical. But gloves might be nice. He found his way to the back of the store and was greeted by his own reflection in a mirror. Under the mirror sat smooth wood shelves. With gloves.

The first pair Shuichi picked were nice, but not what he was going for. Black, a little fuzzy, very soft. The color worked, but the texture wasn’t quite what he was looking for. He felt a little emo. Oh well. 

After that he tried on purple gloves with a few silver studs. _ That _ was incredibly Kyoko. Maybe nice to have, but not to wear on a daily basis. While they weren’t uncomfortable, they weren’t quite comfortable either.

The third pair struck him. The outside featured a fabric much like a pillow you’d find on your grandmother’s couch, not soft but not scratchy either. A sort of rough-smooth. They were grey and black with a zig-zagging pattern. But the palms. The inner palms of the gloves were dressed in sleek black leather. It felt a little ominous, if anything. But very detective-y.

Describing clothes was hard. It was like Shuichi lacked the words… or something. However, he really liked the gloves.

Shuichi walked up to the counter and paid for them. He pulled them onto his hands before he left. He almost felt like a scientist, dramatically pulling on gloves before a dangerous experiment. He turned his hands around a little in them. After that, he left Kiwi’s, gloves on hands.

* * *

It was late one night, Shuichi sat in his desk chair, working studiously. Homework was rough tonight, and his trip out had only eaten away at his time. He grit his teeth. He really, really wanted to just skip it. He’d done so in the past, but… he hated being yelled at. His hand raced up and down the page, gripping his pencil. His hand started turning red. With a sigh, Shuichi threw down the pencil. Done, for now.

It was late, and he was stuck in his room. It was stuffy, he’d been feeling something boiling this whole time. Sleep, sleep might be good. But then he’d just repeat the cycle, wouldn’t he? He wanted, he wanted, what did he want?

Shuichi was struck with an unexplainable feeling of wanting to be somewhere else. Where, he couldn’t place. Somewhere green, more plants, less cement, less concrete. Somewhere less dry. Somewhere where he wasn’t suffocating suffocating suffocating Somewhere where he wasn’t confined to his room like he was now, Somewhere where he felt alive and not sleepwalking half the time.

Shuichi took his notebook, the one that held a sketch of the Blank Club’s mysterious symbol, and left. It was the late evening, the sky was purple, but the stars were invisible. Here, you couldn’t see the stars.

Shucihi left. Shuichi Shuichi Shuichi? Shuichi wanted to stop hearing his name he wanted to stop being him he wanted he wanted

Danganronpa. Danganronpa could give him what he wanted most of the time, to be somewhere other than here but right now it didn’t have what he wanted so pencil and notebook in hand, he left his room and ran.

At night, the streets felt less suffocating, less confining. The world was dark, the streets held the safety of lamps, of light. The orange hue contrasted softly with the purple of space. They cast a tall, lanky silhouette of himself across the concrete walls on the edges of the road. Under his feet, the sidewalk felt hard. Good hard. Hard like it wasn’t going to fade away under him.

The air was cold. A wake-up sort of cold, one to keep him where he was. In this reality. Shuichi wasn’t running anymore, but was still moving with some swiftness to his step. His shoes slapped against the cracked pavement.

The road turned, he turned too. Right now, he was alone. The rare car sped by, but no other people. Wooden benches sat, empty. Begging for anyone to take rest on them. Shuichi had no time. He kept going until the main road’s concrete walls turned into black, iron fences. Strong, metal iron fences. And behind them he could see, he could see the black green of the trees in the black purple of night. Hiding behind bars, in their prison.

Just off the road, a narrow path went through the fences. Not confining, but narrow. He hopped up the concrete steps as his silhouette, his shadow form the streetlights merged with himself. The stairs went up and disappeared into the purple dark of night, and so did Shuichi. The road turned to dirt. And opened, into a small grass clearing. Surrounded by trees, surrounded by iron prison bars, and open to a ceiling of stars.

Finally, up here, he could see the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just got cast in a show!!! :0  
despite the fact this chapter was written weeks in advance, coincidentally i've started wearing gloves too. like, this week.  
i *hope* you enjoyed!  
i hope you enjoy liars too, nishishi ;)  
whatever could i mean? tune in next week! if you want to or something...


	5. Act I - Five

‘Where do people even go outside of school?’ Shuichi wondered to himself as he walked away from his high school, gloved hands clutching the straps of his backpack. Food? Everyone eats food. He was pretty sure he had seen a restaurant near Kiwi’s yesterday. Shuichi made a right turn.

But surely people with friends like, meet up places. But where? It’s not like you can just go feral and run off into the forest. There aren’t enough of them anymore. Also, it feels like somebody’s always watching where you go. Shuichi would hate to be judged for running off into the wilderness. He blocked thoughts of last night from his mind.

It always seemed like adults talked about going on adventures when they were his age. He just couldn’t understand _ where _ . I guess that’s why they call it the Information Age, there’s little room for mischief and adventure when _ everything _ is catalogued and permanent records exist.

At the same time, it was like nobody even cared about him. Can’t go out without a reason, maybe that’s it? Do you need a reason to go places now? Or maybe it’s money. That’s logical, most places are privately owned now so you either need to be paying for whatever service they provide or get out.

But for some reason, no theory would fit.

Apart from that, he was still on the hunt for a lost phone, still didn’t know the identity of the mystery number, and still had no idea where to find the secret club. Oh, and Kaito was still hounding him from time to time. Maybe he would try texting the mystery number after getting something to eat.

Shuichi stood across the street from Kiwi’s, next to a noodle shop. Through the window he saw it to be moderately full, but definitely with room for him. Nobody would even notice. The place was built of a deep red wood—mahogany? Or maybe redwood, that would make sense. He checked his pocket. He had enough money… probably.

Shuichi entered and stood in line, with three or so people in front of him. Noodles. Noodles were nice. Though it was still the tail-end of summer, warm soup would be nice. Shuichi felt cold. Boiling cold.

Noodles! He repeated his order a few times in his head: one udon soup with a small drink. One udon soup with a small drink. The restaurant’s crowds chattered on in the background as he went through the order. Up ahead, someone moved out of line.

And someone stepped into line behind him. 

“Nishishi… well hey there…“

Shuichi turned and instinctively brought a gloved hand to grip his cap. He turned his gaze down to a smaller boy who instantly crumbled at his glare. The boy’s mischievous grin turned downcast, greasy purple hair wilting down. Purple like that artificial grape flavor in liquid medicine. Shuichi quickly realized, “Oh! Sorry.”

“Nah! It’s my bad. Should’ve expected Kaito’s buds to be at least a little intimidating.”

Huh? Friends with Kaito? _Him_? This boy clearly had it all wrong. But without pause he continued, “I’m Kokichi Oma! I’m super duper rough and tough like you guys!” Oma threw his hands behind his head in a relaxed pose.

“Um. I’m not friends with Kaito.”

Oma scoffed. He clearly didn’t like that; Shuichi could read him like an open book. “Oh. Well then, what am I doing wasting my precious time with you?” Oma said as he boredly looked at his nails. No, wait! There had to be a way to fix this. Something like—

“Aha, I got you!” Shuichi pointed his gloved hand accusingly, “That was a test. Kaito and I are… super cool. I mostly get his work done for him, but I’m no lackey… he trusts me with important jobs! And stuff.”

Oma’s jaw dropped. Holy crap, that actually worked? The small boy squeaked “Oh! Ahaha, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have fallen for that. Um… looks like you’re next in line. Pleasure to make your acquaintance though.”

Shucihi stared. He really didn’t know what to make of Kokichi. The small boy with curled candy-purple hair would flip from arrogant to shy at a moment’s notice. And it didn’t seem ingenuine either. Something was clearly up with him… but Shuichi didn’t have time to think about it. He had noodles to order, after all.

* * *

[Hey Shuichi? o.0]

[Do you think everyone deserves to be happy?]

Shuichi stared at his phone, its blue glow dimly illuminating his face. He rubbed his eyes, it was pretty late. He rolled over to more comfortably tap out the response.

[Of course]

[Everyone says that and I believe it too, but…]

[Doesn’t everyone seem miserable? T-T]

[Huh?]

[It’s almost like everyone’s forcing themselves to act happy.]

[But so many of us are chained down.]

[even those of us lucky enough to have school and jobs and stuff]

[we live in the first world, but it still feels like it weighs us down?]

[Everyone’s got problems i guess, but that doesn’t mean we cant be happy]

Shuichi wondered if he believed his own words.

[I want everyone to be happy. I want to believe it, but…]

[either I’m wrong, or the whole world is.]

Shuichi brought a hand to his mouth. What do you say to that? It’s a typical man versus society type conflict. He saw it in his stories—the world of fiction—all the time. But there’s no simple answer that’s one hundred percent true. After a minute of musing, he was interrupted by a new message.

[;-;]

He still didn’t know how to respond.

[Shuichi, are *you* happy?]

Pause.

[I don’t know.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wishing i were an arcade cabinet;
> 
> yesterday was great.


	6. Act I - Six

We know our own story in both the most and least detail. We think we know everything about it, and that’s not quite wrong, for we know almost every piece of information about our own life. Living the life, however, causes bias, and that certainly won’t do. Many people fall into delusion, like Nagito.

No. No Danganronpa right now. Within our lives, we often find ourselves intimately intertwined into other’s stories.

Well, not Shuichi, but it happens for other people. Best friends. Lovers. Close family.

And for some people, we only get a sliver of a glimpse into their story. Sometimes, even if we want more, that’s all we’ll ever get.

It's a solemn slap to the face, realizing a story you thought you once knew you are no longer a part of. If any of that made any sense. That's why Shuichi tried not to think much about Himiko anymore.

His hands swaying with the breeze, he found himself back at the ugly wall behind the school in the dull afternoon light. It was nearing the end of September, but it was still light.

A nearby tree cast a grim shadow over Shuichi. Par for the course at this point. Its curved green nettles rustled gently.

He was still no closer on the mystery of the symbol: spiraling eye, split down the center, eyelash jutting up at the end. A circle, a curve, and a pointed line. He pondered giving up on ever unraveling the mystery.

Then he smelt something in the air. Almost like… smoke? Shuichi darted his eyes up as much as he could while keeping them obscured with his hat. Holy shit, the tree was on fire. Someone had stuck a cigarette in it and the whole green tangled tower was going up in smoke.

Hang on, on closer inspection, the flaming tree casting its shadow over him wasn't a tree at all. It was just Gonta. Lighting up a cigarette behind the school.

Oh shit.

Shuichi instinctively jumped back; Gonta remained stoic. He blew smoke from his caramel lips and pinched the cigarette with the delicacy one might use to squash a bug. Shuichi mumbled, "S-sorry…"

Gonta, leaning against the wall, merely shrugged. "Free wall, dude." Shuichi blinked.

By some stroke of luck the giant didn't appear to be feeling very murderous today. Though he wasn't quite sure, Shuichi heard whispers of fear regarding Gonta Gokuhara, who almost never showed to class and spent most of his time smoking in solitude, out of sight. There were rumors he was raised in the woods. Or something like that. Either way, everyone knew him to be a delinquent. One of the bad kids.

Shuichi cowered internally. He backed away slowly, each step rustling the grass. And then, he was halted. A rough hand firmly gripped his shoulder behind. A violet violent voice verbalized into his ear,

"Oi. Shithara. Fancy running into you here."

Shuichi froze. He slowly turned to face Kaito, a fiendish grin adorning his face. Without hesitation, Kaito snatched Shuichi’s hat and began twirling it on his finger. “Long time, no see! Hey, you’re gonna pay me back, right?”

Shuichi stuttered, “Pay you b-back? F-for what?”

Kaito chortled, which soon turned into a cackle, “For not crushing a pitiful ant like you under my boot! Now cough up.” He roughly slapped Shuichi on the back.

And then,

A shadow once again fell over Shuichi’s bare head, and though he couldn’t see it, Kaito surely could. Kaito gazed up at the mountainous man like one would gaze at a tarantula, if it were over six feet tall. Smoke poured from Gonta Gokuhara’s nose like steam from the nostrils of a bull. His green hair wildly sprawled out behind him, menacing, imposing.

“There is… always a bigger bug.”

Kaito gulped. And then chuckled quietly, hunching over a little, “Well, I didn’t realize you two were buds. Just eh, I’ll get back ta ya later, Shuichi.” And with that, he slowly scampered away.

Shuichi, however, found himself turning again to face Gonta, now feeling even more defenseless without his hat. Gonta didn’t smile, but he wasn’t frowning either. He nodded powerfully, then returned to his place, leaning against the wall.

Shuichi nodded back.

* * *

Shuichi stared at the eye of the secret club’s symbol and it stared right back at him. There _ had _ to be answers contained in this stupid symbol and he was going to find them. He stretched his arms back around his desk chair. That only kind of helped.

He turned the page around, viewing it from every possible angle, but it still wasn’t making sense. He yawned. He rubbed his hatless head. He might have considered going on another excursion, but felt… unprepared, without his hat. He would have to get it back from Kaito at some point, somehow…

In the end, Shuichi decided to do what he always did when he couldn’t think of anything better to do, and decided to put on old Danganronpa. The new one wasn’t out yet, so he settled on a classic: the original. 

He lazily rewatched episodes of the Trigger Happy Havoc season he could probably quote from memory. All the old characters, bewildered at being trapped in a killing game. It felt natural though. The killing game was familiar to him. Chihiro Fujisaki, the ultimate programmer, typed away at _her_ keyboard (Shucihi already knew the story by heart). This must be when she develops Alter Ego.

Green numbers flew past the screen as the episode played on his phone. The green code numbers were a bit cliche in tv and movies, but whatever. Chihiro began writing something down. She scrawled a string of numbers and letters, presumably for future reference. She even wrote like a programmer, emphasizing certain numbers as different from letters. Danganronpa really had some nice detailing.

Her zeroes were split with a diagonal line so they didn’t look like the letter o, her twos and fives were specifically made not to look like the letter s, her sevens had an extra line through the middle.

And that’s when it hit him.

The pupil of the sketch, a circle with a diagonal line through the middle. The eye, spiraling into a curve, which blossomed into the eyelash, which was split with a single line through the middle before jetting up.

The end of the eyelash, a seven. The pupil, a zero. And the outer eye, a six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry for the delay! i was away from my computer for a while;  
act 1 is over! im gonna make that more official once i give act 1 a name, ahaha,,, sorry, im a mess
> 
> there's gonna be a bit of a hiatus for the act break, expect more regular updates once act 2 starts! as of the time of writing, it's a third of the way complete. hopefully the break will be short as ive already been out for a while ;/  
im hype for where this story is gonna go, got so many plans, but im rambling  
thank you for reading! im curious to know what you guys think, kind readers, feel free to comment


	7. Act II - Seven

\----------------------

ACT 2 - THE MASQUERADE

\----------------------

June 19th, 8 years ago.

It felt millenia ago.

It felt like last weekend.

On the beach, the sand simmering like fried rice on the stove, two kids sat. Shuichi Saihara, the last of his light in his eyes, ran over the sand, letting his hair blow in the weak wind. A small girl in a red swimsuit lay sprawled on a blanket, running sand through her fingers. The lion’s roar of the waves was far enough away it was more of a meow. 

Young Shuichi tumbled over a dune, hauling a plastic bucket of sand, wetted by the ocean water. He dumped the pile of wet sand like cement in front of a young Himiko Yumeno.

“Thanks Shuichi!” Her lips curled into a small grin as she began sculpting a tower. Shuichi picked up a handful of liquefied sand. Himiko had taught him a technique to drizzle the wet sand through your fingers in such a way it fell into small stalagmites. The pancakes of sand would pile into a small spire and dry gold.

As Himiko sculpted away, engineering with ease, Shiuchi decorated the sides with small pancake towers. He laughed. Himiko grinned too, but was too focused on building to vocalize it. The tower stood strong.

An older Shuichi laid in bed, clad in pajamas, staring at the ceiling. His eyes held a candle for everyone lost. Himiko. Just somebody he once knew.

* * *

Shuichi’s hat had been missing for a day now. He almost considered putting up a lost item poster for it. But he knew who had it: Kaito Momota. And he sure as hell wasn’t just gonna give it back. But that was a problem for later, as right now he had a different mission. 

The lunch bell rang, and the first place Shuichi went was room 706. That was the only logical configuration of the numbers, as the 600 rooms were janitorial closets, there wasn’t a room 760 or 670, and Shuichi wasn’t able to determine what 076 could be if it wasn’t a room.

He stared at the wooden door with the small checkered window, obscured by a poster on the other side. This was it. The Blank Club. A hand on the cold metal handle, Shuichi gently opened the door.

Nobody was there.

It was an empty classroom. Dim light filtered through the window blinds on the opposite wall. The teacher’s desk had no nameplate, or anything else. All the desks lay bare. Shuichi’s heels squeaked on the linoleum floor as he walked the bare rows. Well, this was the answer he was looking for. There was no Blank Club, just a cruel joke with an arbitrary symbol used to spread rumors around the school. He sighed heavily, and ran a hand over one of the glossy wooden desks. 

The whole room was beige and dull grey and white and plastic. Which is why a glitter of lilac caught his eye. On a shelf in a small cabinet with its door open, a small purple rectangle lay lifeless. Shuichi gingerly picked it up in his gloved hands, and opened the flap on the front. It was a phone. Battery dead. One crack on the front screen, held in a purple wallet case. That felt familiar, for some reason…

Oh! The poster! Someone was looking for this; he’d have to check the poster again so he knew who to return it to. Shuichi turned to put the item in his bag for later to return it to its owner. He was still disappointed, but at least this wasn’t completely useless. How’d someone’s phone wind up in this old classroom though?

The door clicked open. A shadow slipped through. And then the shadow froze in its tracks. Shuichi’s eyes widened, “Uh, hello?” The shadow trembled, hastily scanned the room, and almost made to leave. “Wait!” Shuichi reassured, “Who are you? Do you know anything about a secret club?”

Long dark hair rolled down the boy’s shoulders and caged his face. A black mask concealed his mouth and nose, leaving only his golden eyes to shine through. He slowly stood up straight, reinflating, and holy shit he was tall. At least six feet. Shuichi was intimidated, to say the least.

“Intriguing. What knowledge do you possess of a secret organization?”

A black fog of terror crept from the boys lips and filled Shuichi, who had apparently wandered into the lion’s den. With a voice like velvet, like incense—like ancient artifacts—he managed to shift the entire thing, like returning a serve in tennis with perfect form. Shuichi stood scared shitless.

He choked out, “Uhm, the Blank Club? I found a poster and uh, found the numbers in the symbol and ended up here. I mean, I’ve only heard rumors—”

“Rumors?”

The boy sliced the conversation with a golden sword. “You’ve heard the rumors then? The Blank Club, a secret gathering of students, though no testimony exists of what precisely occurs behind the veil? I’ve heard the rumors too. You want to know what I think of folk tales?”

“W-what do you think?”

“I think they are disgustingly true.”

Shuichi’s jaw dropped. But the tall creepy boy continued, “Truly vile. The scattershot of folklore and superstition paints only an outline of the truth. It is horrific. The demented machinations that cause collective hysteria, the truest lies there ever were. You seek out this secret club?”

Shuichi nodded. “Well then, you came at a bad time. Allow the sun to cycle itself once or twice more, and your answers you shall find. I’ll spread the word of your arrival, Shuichi Saihara.”

And with that, the boy left.

* * *

3am. Damn. Shuichi slid open the glass door to his back porch, glossy stones freezing his feet. With a whump it shut, and Shuichi crept out into the night. Maybe he should’ve brought shoes. Oh well. He couldn’t sleep, and found himself out here for some reason. He wasn’t sure why. He didn’t have any answers. He turned his gaze up towards the sky.

It wasn’t like the clearing. The blanket of stars above was obscured by town lights, ugly ones too. But not pretty ugly. Not neon, not dilapidated, not busy, not sinful, not towering, not alive. The light pollution wasn’t colorful like a dense, big city, neon advertising signs climbing skyscrapers to form a jungle canopy. The yellows weren’t like a dystopian novel, searchlights and red screams of alarms haunting the night like ghosts. It was dead light. Flat jaundice, decrepit yellow light blocked the pristine beauty of the night sky. Wide yellow cones of piss.

Shuichi only frowned, because there was nothing he could do. Clearly this masquerade of fantasy had a few cracks. But I’m sure you knew that, didn’t you? I adore—Shuichi adored getting lost in a texture, a filter, a fiction deep as an ocean. Maybe that’s the answer you seek, and no blame would befall you, but that’s not the answer that’s here. It’s something Shuichi yearns for, but cannot make it so. It wouldn’t feel right.

This crack in the virtual sky that was the gross yellow light pollution served… something. Shuichi didn’t know. He’d lost it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's good to be back baybee
> 
> i'd like to give a special thanks to a close friend of mine who got a sneak peak of this chapter  
if you're reading this synner, ily sm ;0 <3
> 
> the next six chapters will be out on a weekly schedule! thanks for reading!


	8. Act II - Eight

Shuichi texted the number on the poster saying he had found the lost phone. Apparently it belonged to Kirumi Tojo, who was very grateful for his help. He agreed to meet her after math to return it.

He boredly sat in math class, reading instead of paying attention, as usual. Although he _ occasionally _ paused to jot down a problem or two. The bell piercingly shrieked, though everyone was numb to it at this point. Shuichi packed up his things and retrieved the phone from his bag. He just finished hoisting it onto his back when Kirumi approached him with a small smile.

Kirumi Tojo. She was dressed both neatly and modestly. She had a reputation as a bit of a teacher’s pet, but a responsible student and bright mind nonetheless. Wouldn’t let you copy her homework, but would be happy to help. But personally, nobody knew much about her. Interests? Likes, dislikes? Favorite movies, books, food? All a mystery.

“Ah, I appreciate it greatly, Shuichi.”

“It’s nothing…” He handed her the phone; her fingers met his gloved ones briefly. She inspected it. They both noted the crack in the otherwise perfect screen. Shuichi’s eyes widened, and he suddenly sparked courage, “I found it in an open cabinet in this unused classroom. I wonder how it wound up there… “

Kirumi stared for a second. She flipped the wallet case shut and pocketed the phone. “That… I… “ She brought a finger to her chin. She thought a moment. “I can only wonder how it found its way there. No reason to dwell on it.” She coughed. “We best depart. Next class is in a few minutes. I thank you again, Shuichi.”

Shuichi most certainly _ would _ dwell on it.

Kirumi had another phone, as he texted her to return this one. It wasn’t critical she needed it back. It was set in an open cabinet, out of the way but still easy to find if you spent a few minutes inside. The classroom itself; Shuichi had no idea who even used that room. Not yet, at least. He then had a revelation.

He should probably get to class.

* * *

The mysterious boy told him to wait, so wait he did. Shuichi walked home from school, the sun glinting like gold in the sky, nervously unsure of a lot of different things. The way home was a trek through the desert and a brisk walk through the park. Depending on how he was feeling. Some days, any time away from the walls of his house was time well spent. Other days, he wanted nothing more to hide from the vengeful sun.

Today he wanted to be away from that stifling, suffocating place that was his home. The sidewalk below was littered with cracks and weeds. A droopy tree overhang the walk, a concrete wall nearly tall as him behind the planters. It wasn’t far from school. He still had fifteen or so minutes of freedom.

Shuichi wanted to go _ somewhere, _ do _ something _ but there wasn’t anything for him so he defeatedly opted to head home. Scuffed shoes slapping the sidewalk, he waded through the sun home.

Then a small boy teleported next to him. “Afternoon, Shuichi.” Shuichi yelled and jumped back in shock, raising a hand. “Aaaa I’m so sorry! Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Kokichi hastily apologised. Shuichi realised and brushed his shirt off. “Oh, it’s fine. I was just startled.”

Kokichi began, “I’m sure you’ve got plans this evening, but if you can spare the time, I need a partner in crime!” Kokichi grinned. “Oh hey, that rhymed!” He fiddled with his backpack straps.

That felt like the kind of thing Shuichi should be worried about. “...what is it?”

Kokichi flinched back. Weird reaction. He mumbled, “Can you just come with me, it’ll be quick, I promise…”

Shuichi almost felt bad for the smaller boy. “Sure. Lead the way.” He hoped he wouldn’t regret that decision. Kokichi said something so fast it became unintelligible and then shot off like a bullet. Shuichi frantically ran after him.

Shuichi’s feet slapped against the cracked concrete as Kokichi sped on ahead, twisting and turning as the sprawling housing turned to downtown. The noodle shop from before blurred by as he ran. Kokichi seemed to be barely breaking a sweat, while Shuichi panted heavily.

After a sequence of turns, Shuichi caught up to him. He half-yelled, “Where are we going!?” Kokichi smiled apologetically, “My favorite store! C’mon!” They continued to wherever the hell they were going. Passersby were few and far between, but nevertheless gave them each bewildered looks. They began flying uphill, as the path jetted upwards.

Finally, Kokichi decelerated. Shuichi careened over behind him. A small store rested nicely into the corner of the block between the street and a narrow sidewalk path. It was both modern and sleek and a little rough around the edges. Like a convenience store one might come across late at night on a road trip. As if he had read his mind, Kokichi hummed, “Huh. Place looks different at night. I almost ran right past it!”

Shuichi coughed, “I’m glad you didn’t.”

_ Top D__eLuché _ proclaimed the sign. The bell tinkled as the pair wandered in. Kokichi’s heels clicked on the linoleum floors. They passed the bored man at the counter. He looked like an item merchant in a video game. The whole store was illuminated by fluorescent lights dangling from the ceiling. Aisles of plastic white shelves held an assortment of items. It was the kind of place that at night would feel like the only room in the world.

Kokichi led Shuichi through the store giddily. Shuichi skeptically looked around. One wall held an array of masks. Several blank white masks glared at him like he wasn’t supposed to be there. One shelf held a wooden baseball bat next to a radish-red crowbar next to a tire iron. The shelf above it held various electronic components, like a vhs player, an old game controller, and even a set of night-vision goggles. A bulky fog machine ominously sat like an obelisk on the top shelf.

The two reached one of the back rows where Kokichi eagerly eyed something on the top shelf. It was a speaker, a studded black cube roughly the size of his head. “Can you help me get it down?” Kokichi jumped as if to emphasize his inability to reach. Shuichi stood on his tiptoes, and stretched his arms up. He almost knocked over a precariously balanced antique letter opener in the process, but managed to get the speaker down.

“Now carry it for me, minion!”

Shuichi grunted, “Can’t you carry it yourself? It’s heavy.”

Kokichi blushed and fluttered his hands in front of him. “Eek! Sorry, yeah, I can do it. Uhm, just take it to the counter please so I can pay, and I’ll carry it back home for— carry it back home.”

On the return trip, Kokichi also purchased a glass coke bottle from the mini freezer near the front. The clerk beeped both items through, and Kokich paid like he said. He picked up the speaker and Shuichi followed him out the door, back to the sidewalk. They walked back together, until Kokichi eventually broke off on his own way. Kokichi thanked him. For some reason.

Shuichi really didn’t know what to make of the day’s adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "imagine having a cute girl finding out you write danganronpa fanfics and as you stand in shame she leans in, raises an eyebrow, and asks "what ships? ;) "  
oh wait i don't have to imagine haha  
so yea life be good rn like i wanna be emo but uhhhhh nah chief it's cool"
> 
> is what i wrote a few weeks ago for the note. aha. how quickly things can change.


	9. Act II - Nine

October 22nd, 6 years ago.

A younger, similarly hatless Shuichi slumped into a brown tweed couch. The fall sun projected pumpkin colored light through a square window above the tv and onto himself and Himiko. She contentedly button-mashed on a gray controller, wired to a game system under the tv. Shuichi lazed on the couch, which smelled like acorns, and contemplated reaching for another squash cookie. Two sat on a plate by his sock-covered feet.

The floor was made of a wood dark as beer, and was rough around the edges. The walls were a dim lime. Himiko brushed crumbs off her sweater and a smile curled onto her face. The tv blew a few virtual beeps their way. There was no rush, so Shuichi stretched himself deeper into the cushions and enjoyed the afternoon.

* * *

As autumn faded in, Shuichi found himself in a small fair his town held. His parents had taken him, but thankfully allowed him to wander off on his own. A square plot of grass, vibrantly green and yellow, sat surrounded by two-story towers of housing. Around the place, various people set up makeshift booths where they sold an assortment of things. At the front an empty stage was scheduled to host performances later in the afternoon. 

The damp grass parted to make way for his shoes, which got wet and started squeaking. He wandered the stalls where people eagerly sat at plastic fold-out tables. Shuichi was happy to just watch, although he had a little money with him. An elderly man sold homemade pottery and ceramics, across from a pair of young women who excitedly advertised fresh tea. Some more professional looking booths sold American kettle corn and hot dogs, along with some more traditional food. 

The afternoon air was crisp and the sun was cold. The scattered trees yellowed in the wind. Shuichi lamented his lack of a hat, but his gloves served the weather well.

He hated crowds, which were fortunately sparse here. He made his way to a mountain of pumpkins, where straw littered the ground and rolled itself into bales to sit on—with the help of stringy green cords. Shuichi sat and watched the crowd go by. He wasn’t sure what to do; he just liked being here. It had a nice atmosphere.

And it was temporary. Places like this only exist for a day, or a week, but sooner or later everyone packs up and leaves and then Shuichi wouldn’t be able to come back. It was like being dyslexic. Shuichi gazed longingly at this picture of the world around him and recognized it but couldn’t understand it. It kept ebbing and flowing like the autumn wind. How do you describe something that’s temporary?

Do you describe it in the present? If Shuichi wanted to describe this square grass plot as a location he couldn’t accurately describe the fair because up to now it wasn’t like this and in the future it won’t be any more, until a new fair began. But he couldn’t call it a blank spot of confined natural land because right now that wasn’t what it was. He couldn’t, he he couldn’t he could not he wasn’t able to not don’t he couldn’t he can’t we can’t

Shuichi decided to not let it get to him. Do you really have to understand something to appreciate it? 

And then some time passed. It has a habit of doing that. Across the way, something orange caught his eye. Next to a stand with paintings and easels, a plastic table held several small round items. Shuichi slowly stood and waltzed over. He handed the man at the stand five dollars, and picked up one small pumpkin.

He held it in his gloved hand. It was very round, almost like it was meant to be held. It was orange like the sunset, and smelled like it too. A small stout stem poked from its head. Shuichi felt the pumpkin. It was very much there and very much real.

He took it home and put it on his desk.

* * *

Wed 11:29pm

[Shuichi, do you have faith in humanity?]

[I wish]

[Who does, ahaha~~but you used to right? as a kid]

[Well it’s easier to before you learn about all the crazy shit people do]

[Like, see the news once or pick up a history book and you see how evil people can be.]

[Hmm, interesting 0.0]

[May I ask, what does faith in humanity even mean?]

[Huh well]

[I guess part of it is like, a global sorta thing]

[But part of it is also if you think people are mostly good or mostly bad]

[But you’re trusting me even though you don’t know me? =.=]

[I mean, you go to high school with me]

[You trust me cause I’m a high schooler? Lmao]

[Point taken.]

Shuichi rolled over in his bed; it was late. His family probably knew what he did, but might think he was sleeping. He was re-reading over old messages with the mystery number. He wasn't really sure why, it was a habit of his. Sometimes he wished he could watch back over conversations in real life too. Maybe it was because they hadn't texted him in a few days. He considered texting them first... maybe another day though. He kept reading.

Thurs 12:00am

[Do you think innocence matters?]

[Me? ehe well it for sure matters a little, even if it makes you vulnerable to bad stuff as a kid it lets you be happy with the world for a bit. I think it’s a good thing]

[Really? It’s just a bunch of lies and shit, even if they’re ones I never got to believe]

[Is it so bad to just let people be happy?]

[Yes. Like you said, it makes you open to people tricking you]

[Even when ur paranoid af u can still get screwed over by people :/ ]

[I just can’t see how you can look at the world and still think people are good]

[I don’t know if I think that. Well, I don’t know what I think, ehe]

[I’ve never been good at answers, just comin up with questions~]

[Aaaa im sleepy, gn Shuichi!! Uwu]

[Ah, goodnight.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> patented Deep Talk Late at Night, inspired by something messed up i read on a democratically decided whim
> 
> also i finally listened to the full black parade album so  
im working on the emo phase


	10. Act II - Ten

This was the fateful day when Shuichi would finally meet him. The leader of the Blank Club. A boy who could seemingly do anything he wanted. Even the members of the club were surprised he led them. Nobody knew why. He could easily join Kaede’s group if he wanted to, but he didn’t. The Blank Club’s leader was a wooden puzzle box tossed into a river and swept ashore.

It began at lunch.

Shuichi almost never used his locker. They were always kinda grimy. The grey paint on the metal wore away to bread-crust rust underneath. His locker door got stuck all the time. He remembered his first year of high school when it got completely jammed, entombing all of his stuff inside. He almost cried.

But today was one of the rare occasions where he returned to it, as he needed a book for one of his classes in which they probably would barely even use it. He didn’t remember his combination. Fortunately, muscle memory came to the rescue like it always does, and he snapped the lock off.

Inside, on top of the book he was looking for, lay a letter. It was a pristine white, with a small symbol on the front.

A spiraling eye with a winged eyelash bisected by a single line.

Shuichi took the letter gingerly, then grabbed his book. He slammed the locker shut, snapped the lock back on, and then decided to check it out. The letter was sealed shut.

Shuichi attempted to gently open the letter, failed miserably, and ripped the entire top off at a diagonal angle. Whoops. Inside was, who could’ve guessed, a note. It looked as if it had been torn out of a notebook, the little paper strand-thing that connects to the spiral rings was still dangling off. He unfolded it.

_ September 29_

_ Lunch, at the Usual Place _

_ BYOCN (Bring Your Own Code Name) _

That was today.

Right now.

Oh shit.

Shuichi raced through the courtyard and halls of the school, gloved hands on the straps of his bag so it wouldn’t swing. Hatless, his hair blew in the breeze. He couldn’t believe it. The Blank Club. He was finally going to meet them. And he was nearly fifteen minutes late to the first meeting.

He skidded to a halt in front of room 706. There stood a short boy—there stood Ryoma. Shuichi froze. Everyone knew Ryoma Hoshi: his rich family had a bridge named after them (apparently a popular spot for jumping) and rumors of his sketchy background left everyone in fear of him. People said he had expert combat abilities from their family’s personal trainer, that he’d committed several B-and-Es, that he could ruin your reputation or even your identity, that he could hack any social media account and overall really fuck you up. 

Ryoma’s red tie hung lazily from his form, leaned against the door to room 706. In one hand, he held a white plastic mask. Oddly he seemed a little sweaty. Ryoma looked up at him. “Code name?”

Shuichi fumbled for a second. He didn’t have one oh shit and Ryoma was looking right at him and this might be his one only chance shit uhh Izuru Kamakura? That’s a cool name but no Danganronpa, just do something normal something similar so he said the first thing that came to mind, 

“Remnant of Despair.”

There was a stiff pause, before Ryoma asked, “Howbout just Remnant?”

Shuichi gulped. “Yeah, that works.”

“Okay then,” Ryoma continued, before offering Shuichi a blank white mask, “You’ll need to put this on. Everyone in the club wears ‘em, it’s a long-standing tradition.”

“What about you?”

“Heh, don’t need one. Now come on in, Remnant.”

Shuichi pulled the elastic over his ears and snapped it onto his head. Ryoma pushed open the door, and they walked in.

Three other people, clad in similar masks, were scattered around the room. A tall boy had his feet up on what would be the teacher’s desk, reading a thick novel. A girl sat lazily attentive in the front row, hands making a bridge to rest her chin on. In the back, someone with a big black hat and earbuds in tapped their fingers atop a waist-high cabinet, curled next to the window.

Ryoma led Shuichi in and, hands in his pockets, gestured everyone to gather. The members of the Blank Club formed a loose semicircle, and all but the tall boy with dark hair looked as Ryoma began to speak.

“Everyone, we have a new recruit. This is codename Remnant. Care to introduce yourselves?”

The girl in the front row hopped up and vivaciously shook Shuichi’s hand. Blue hair flowed like a waterfall from behind her mask. “Hi! Bluejay Walker. Just Blue works though. Nice to meet you!”

The person with a black cap and similarly dark wardrobe spoke next, “Call me Hal. And refer to me as they/them, please.”

Everyone looked to the tall boy with dark hair, who still didn’t react. Ryoma filled in, “This is Calamus; guy who made our symbol. Brightest one in the group, though he’ll never admit it. That’s everyone.” Ryoma seemed almost unsure as he spoke, but continued quickly, “So, any questions newbie?”

Shuichi was bursting with questions. But didn’t want to come off as weird. But oh god, he wanted to know more. “What do you guys do? Why’d you make the club? What’s its purpose? Why the masks and the code names?”

Hal spoke up, “This club was formed with a critical directive.”

Shuichi was on the edge of his seat, “What?”

“When you sit alone at lunch the Christian Club tries to recruit you.”

Bluejay snorted and fell into giggles, while Ryoma nodded along, “Pretty much. This is the place for people with nowhere else to be. Sometimes even after-school if you don’t feel like going home; I don’t judge. We usually just hang—though we’ve talked about doing more once or twice.”

“Oh.”

Calamus cracked his lips and let his voice flow through, then through the mask, “The masks and the codenames—however juvenile they may be—represent anonymity. A person is only truly free to act how they desire when they are free from the chains of reputation and accountability. Our organization represents freedom; specifically freedom to be. Freedom to show your true self.”

* * *

After his impromptu initiation, everyone left to their own devices for the remainder of lunch, though there wasn't much of it left. Shuichi tended to the book he was reading. The rest of the day was ordinary, until the Blank Club’s notable leader appeared after his final class.

Ryoma approached him as nameless students rushed by, and asked, “Remnant. Shuichi.”

Shuchi frantically grasped for his hat and caught air in his gloved palm. “Oh! Hi.”

“Wanna ride home? I drive.”

“Sure.” He choked out, and soon enough the pair were treading the black asphalt path to the student parking lot. Fall was blooming slowly but surely like a zombie rising from a grave. The sordid yellow air of late summer began lifting and mingling with autumn’s skeletal winds. Trees turned yellow with envy.

Shuichi had already thought immensely about and greatly revered Ryoma. Ryoma was a powerful person, it was only natural. Shuichi was unfortunately missing something. If only he knew. Had he pieced things together earlier, then things would have turned out very different today. But he didn’t talk to the right people, among other mistakes.

As Ryoma and Shuichi approached the student parking lot, they were met with an inexplicable sight. You see, Ryoma had a stout silver-grey Prius, a very comfortable car with a familiar smell like warm graham crackers in each mellow beige cushion. Ryoma’s car used to look recognizably aged but a fine car nonetheless.

However, when Shuichi first saw it, it looked very different. Borax-white scratches scribbled on the side of the car like a child with a sharpie might scribble on a wall. Torn lines ran as if a white ball of yarn had been draped over the car. Or maybe like a spider’s web. A web of white lines criminally etched into the side of Ryoma’s car. And in the bottom right corner, next to the headlight, a doodled winking face stuck its tongue out at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything changed for me.


	11. Act II - Eleven

Present Day

Present Time

September 29th

“Fuck…” Ryoma mumbled, adjusting his tie. Shuichi brought a gloved hand to his chin in thought. He would’ve felt more confident with his hat on, but oh well. “Gotta fix this, gotta fix this…” Ryoma mumbled, before he turned to Shuichi and half-shouted “I’m gonna run around and see if I can catch the bastard. You take a look around here. Anything you can find.”

Ryoma ran off, leaving Shuichi in a conflicted emotional state he didn’t have time to think about at the moment. But he did anyway. It’s a very modern emotion, the desire for something exciting to happen in your life. And most people, myself included, like to imagine that they would very much enjoy themselves in an exciting situation, an interesting situation, acting heroic, maybe even villainous, but importantly: acting at all. Making choices that feel like they really matter, having your skills put to the test in a situation in which they tangibly feel like they matter.

Shuichi, despite feeling a little guilty for it, _was_ excited in a way. Maybe it was just adrenaline. Ryoma was doing the physical part, running off to see if he could catch a bad guy. Shuichi, was _ finally _ in his element. He would be investigating.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for though. He inspected the car in more detail. It wasn’t broken into. The wheels were unslashed. His mind wandered… maybe looking at the time frame would help? He’d make sure to ask Ryoma about when this could’ve happened later.

Investigating like this, Shuichi couldn’t help but think of Danganronpa. Dammit, he was trying to get his mind off of it. But maybe his investigative tips could help here. Shuichi surveyed the surrounding area. He put a gloved hand to his chin in thought. Schools have security cameras, right? There’s no way he could ask for the tapes, but… Ryoma could file a report. Shuichi looked for the nearest camera.

The school’s security cameras were high-end white-plastic black-glass setups that saw in 360 degrees. Each was shaped like a glass bubble under a white box, covering the wires that connected it into a building. It was almost like the bubble windows in those McDonald’s playplaces, scaled smaller and rotated to face downwards.

Shuichi found the nearest camera, and was immediately struck by its appearance. On the wall nearest the parking lot, the camera hung like a bat under the overhang. The lens portion was completely wrapped in silver duct tape, fraying white at the edges. Shuichi looked up at it. Normally looking into a security camera gives you the feeling of being watched, but this one clearly couldn’t see a thing.

Great. No camera footage means that this would be a lot more difficult. And it would be a lot trickier to get the school to do anything. Should be no problem for someone like Ryoma though. But what it also meant was that whoever did this… probably knew what they were doing.

Shuichi continued searching the area, eyeing Ryoma’s vandalized car every now and again. Students filtered through the parking lot. School had just ended, after all. Occasionally people would gawk at the car as they passed by. Ryoma would be hard pressed to find anyone in this crowd. But vehicles slowly cruised away as students left, either for home or in groups, presumably for some type of social gathering with which Shuichi was utterly unfamiliar.

At least he had The Blank Club to fill that void.

Footprints were useless here as this area was so frequented, but Shuichi found himself looking at the ground anyways. The asphalt was coldly warm in the fall light. The ground, technically, held lots of secrets. Graves and fossils, ancient relics of peoples long lost, the remnants of buildings that had collapsed decades ago buried under layers of history. All concealed under the ground.

But the ground of the student parking lot did in fact hide a secret or two. Though it’s of no interest to Shuichi, it is crucial that I explain to you the long and fascinating geologic record of the area surrounding the high school. 

Igneous rocks form from the cooling of magma and are classified based on their silica content. Both mafic and felsic igneous rocks are high in silica content, which causes them to form silicate minerals, the most common of which is feldspar.

Clay is a soft material composed of particularly small particles of sediment. Sediment, as you may have learned in the rock cycle, is the remnants of eroded and weathered larger rocks. Clay in particular is formed when rocks with high silica content are eroded through hydrolysis: chemical breakdown through reaction with water. Rivers are rather good at eroding rock and collecting sediment at their depths. Their water, of course, is skilled at hydrolysis weathering.

The region around the school was, tens of thousands of years ago, home to a humble river that collected eroded sediment from igneous rocks (which themselves likely originated from a volcano). As millennia passed, the river ran a different course, the majority of the water in the region hid in the groundwater, and at the surface, the former riverbed, feldspar-rich sediment was ground up for centuries, until eventually, a pleasant layer of clay was formed.

In the modern day, despite the cement and asphalt paving, a layer of clay remained under it all, and in certain places, this clay touched the surface. So when Shuichi looked at the ground close enough, he found a small hole at the edge of the sidewalk. At first glance it looked like a normal hole, maybe an animal’s doing, but upon seeing the items within, it was evident that a person must have carved this hideaway into the clay beneath the sidewalk.

Shuichi went down on a knee and peered into the clay hole. It went down a few inches and was dark in the back under the sidewalk. He took out his phone flashlight and shone it in. The hideaway contained some objects that he honestly had never seen before, but figured were probably drug-related paraphernalia. Next to them though, one particular item lurked.

It was a knife. The handle was red-painted wood with brassy metal caps. The blade curved like a talon, with curved depth and a sharp looking point. It was pretty, in a way. It looked like one hell of a murder weapon. This knife appeared to be the smoking gun, although Shuichi wondered if it might end up being Chekov’s gun instead. 

“What’d you find?”

Ryoma’s shadow crept up behind Shuichi. When he saw the knife and drugs he half-chuckled, half-sneered. 

“This. And the camera’s out,” Shuichi pointed to the duct-taped camera. Ryoma shot a glance at the camera and back to the knife. He snatched it up, inspected it, and holding it by the blade, offered it to Shuichi.

“Me?” Shuichi said, flustered.

“Yeah, it’s a present.” Shuichi couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “And I gotta head up to the front office to report this, so I can’t exactly carry something like that in.”

“Um… sorry… I still need a ride home.”

“I’ll come back for ya. Wait by my car.” 

Ryoma turned and powerfully walked back into the school. Shuichi stood sheepishly with the knife in his hand, and immediately became conscious of the scattered other people around the parking lot. He hastily put it in his pocket. Shit, had someone seen that?

Shuichi scanned around. He felt even less protected without his hat on. Speaking of which, this wasn’t too far from the spot at which he’d had it stolen. Shuichi strolled across the grass field’s edge closer to the ugly back wall of the school, a ways away but still in sight of the parking lot.

The club posters on the wall like pop-up ads on a website had lost their former glory, now all weathered and torn. Shuichi could swear a crumpled flier on the ground stared at him with an all too familiar eye. Leaning against the wall stood a familiar figure who somehow managed to blend in again.

“Taking from Kaito’s stash… you have a death wish?” Gonta mused, his mess of hair swirling in the breeze. He had evidently seen.

“Please don’t say anything!” Shuichi blurted out.

Gonta nodded and looked away. However, he had learned some very valuable information. This knife, just next to the scene of the crime, belonged to Kaito. Shucihi wanted to thank Gonta, but it felt awkward, so he returned to the parking lot. He wished he had a hat to pull over his face.

Ryoma eventually returned and drove Shuichi back to his house. On the drive, a lump of dread settled itself into Shuichi’s stomach as he realized what the next step in the investigation was. He… would have to confront Kaito. His only lead so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! The walls of my mortal prison are melting away to reveal nothing but void beyond ahaha  
So I've been somewhat preoccupied.
> 
> Please note that as of today (6/26), a piece of chapter 9 has been slightly edited for future continuity.  
It's only a few lines. But little things matter, right? Aha
> 
> also thank you so much to synner for listening to me ramble about geology, i love you so so so much <3 and cant wait for you to get to read this whole piece lol
> 
> Anyways, who do you think keyed Ryoma's car? pretty wild  
also there are several references hidden in this chapter so that's fun if you recognize them


	12. Act II - Twelve

Other than the Blank Club, school was pretty boring. There was an English assignment that got a little too personal, so he naturally lied on it. Assignments like that sucked big time. 

“Write about a story from your childhood,” “Write about an impactful time in your life,” “Write about your parents,” and “What’s something you’re good at?” all served to remind Shuichi that the world he lived in wouldn’t accept him. That there was a way your life was supposed to be and if yours isn’t something that you want to share with the class you can either lie or take the zero. He alternated between either of the two.

Sometimes he wanted to be normal, but sometimes he wanted to be unique. But either way he sure as hell didn’t want to air his past traumas to his random classmates. He would’ve spent most of his classes reading on his phone, except there was a chemistry lab he had to pay attention to.

Chemistry sucked. All the science rooms were awful. Black lab tables were engineered to maximise human discomfort. The temperature in the room was always uncomfortably warm, but the tables were uncomfortably hard and cold. And just at the right height to jab your hip if you walk into them the wrong way. There were stools instead of chairs so you had to squish your legs between the stool legs and the blue cabinets under the tables.

He was partnered with Miu Iruma for the lab. There were worse fates, he supposed. They’d been partnered once before, so he could predict what would happen. Miu would probably carry the lab, and he would just copy her data. 

He wasn’t very in with the social groups at their high school, but she looked like the kind of girl who people would talk about. She smelled like heartbreak. Her boots gave her a few generous inches of height, and her skirt looked short to the point of being uncomfortable. The science labs must be even worse for her.

Miu pulled into the seat next to him. “Oh hey, it’s youuuu… uh…”

“Shuichi.”

“Right! Shuichi. Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“This class?”

“Nah, it’s gotta be… yeah! Himiko told me aboutcha.” Shuichi’s heart dropped.

“Oh. We don’t talk much anymore.”

Miu laughed uproariously, “Bad breakup? Damn, trust me dude, I’ve been there.”

Shuichi frantically waved his hands, “No! Not like that.”

“Oh. Well that’s disappointing. I can always give you some hot tips! ...Ohhh shitt, that was an innuendo! I didn’t even realize.” Shuichi rolled his eyes, and Miu grinned in response. “Alright, ready to get your science on?”

They completed the lab early. Miu was both expert and efficient, and Shuichi was right, she did most of the work. He enjoyed her presence in a strange way.

An overwhelming chatter still filled the room from other groups at work. The good thing about overwhelming chatter is how easy it is to have a nice conversation underneath it. The bad thing is everything else. 

Shuichi awkwardly tried to pick up where they left off, “So uh, love god, Aphrodite, can I ask for some advice?”

Miu shot finger guns, “Fire away.”

“How can I tell if a girl likes me?”

“A classic question, and sadly one I don’t have much of a fuckin’ answer for.”

“Huh? I thought you had experience?”

“Well yeah, I’ve been around I guess. I mean, I’m married to science, but I cheat on her all the time. I dunno, I just usually.... Fuck, I dunno how to describe it.” Miu scratched her head in annoyance. “I mean, all girls are different. Is it weird if I feel like… gh… sorry… I thought I was supposed to be good at this. But lemme guess, you’re the kinda guy who isn’t gonna ask a gal out unless you already know she’s gonna say yes? You can be as subtle as ya want with all your words, but at some point, you just gotta take a risk.”

“I… don’t like risks. I like answers.”

“Me fuckin’ too, bud.”

  
  


* * *

Shuichi kept his mask with him. He wasn’t quite sure how the etiquette of it worked yet. At lunch, he decided to take a chance. He strolled around to the back part of the school where room 706 was, quickly checked nobody was around, snapped the band of his mask around his head, and went in.

The room was oddly peaceful. The only other person there was Hal, sitting in the windowsill, still with bulky headphones around their ears. Maybe they didn’t even have ears, and the headphones were part of their head. He decided not to disturb them.

Shuichi walked past what was once a teacher’s desk, and turned to look at it. He opened a drawer and found it empty. He dropped his bag to the floor and sunk into the chair. He drummed his gloved fingers on the tabletop. To the side, a trash bin with a thin plastic bag had four price tags nestled into its folds.

Shuichi took out his latest detective novel. Here, he could happily read without being disturbed.

No Kaito to antagonize him here. Oh shit, right. He’d need to confront Kaito about the knife soon. He didn’t want to think about that right now though.

“Apologies, do you have a pencil I could borrow?”

Shuichi looked up to see the mask of Hal staring at him.

“My mechanical pencil is out, and I need one for my next class,” Hal shuffled their hands and explained.

“Oh, yeah.” Shuichi unzipped his bag and searched through it for a moment. “Here’s some extra lead,” he said and tossed Hal a small clear rectangle full of grey cylinders. They missed and had to pick it up off the floor. Whoops.

Hal flipped open the case and gingerly handled the sticks, “It’s graphite, by the way. I don’t know why everyone calls it lead. Lead is a much heavier material, as well as being poisonous.” They threaded the graphite sticks into their mechanical pencil, “Graphite is a softer mineral with a definite streak, which is why we use it to write.”

“Ah. I didn’t know that.” Shuichi said.

The Blank Club was an interesting place to say the least. It had a strange feel to it. But maybe, Shuichi hoped, maybe this could be the start of the companionship he hated to admit he wanted.

* * *

Shuichi was fed up with the tension he felt between himself and this mystery person he didn’t even know. Maybe he was just imagining the whole thing. But nevertheless, he felt a weird connection to the person behind the number. And now that they had stopped texting him, he felt like he should try to spark something back up.

He’d need something deep. Well not “deep,” because if you feel the need to call something deep then it probably isn’t really. He was tired of seeing the same old “deep” thoughts that were surface-level and, as much as he hated to say it… stupid posers.

But nevertheless, he took a shot in the dark.

[Do you think the world is a good place?]

And he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surrealism appeals to me because as I sit alone at 3am, look outside, and see it is almost as bright as day (but doesn't appear in photos), it seems a surreal world is not too far from what I experience every day.  
However, that is not this story. Because this story is when things are most real.


	13. Act II - Thirteen

Shuichi’s fiction reserves were low. That is to say, he found it harder and harder to dive into the stories he so loved. He still did love them, he was just worn out. He thought something fresh, something new might help jog his creative mind, so on a saturday afternoon he found himself at the local bookstore.

You may hear a lot of good things about bookstores, and that wouldn’t be wrong. They hold a special energy. They’re an endangered species as well. The walls of the bookstore were a mellow palm-tree colored wood and a white plaster. The shelves were a darker wood the color and consistency of root beer. It was a small place with big sad windows.

Shuichi stood, gloved finger on his chin, at the back section of the store. Something new, something fresh. He’d already thought that. New and fresh. Just goes to show how repetitive things were feeling.

The store itself felt a bit new and fresh though. Paper bats and pumpkins were taped above the shelves. It wasn’t much, but seasonal changes feel new and fresh.

Mystery and detective novels only had so much to offer. For a genre focused on piecing together unexpected twists, they had grown… stale. Shuichi couldn’t place why. It was probably just him. Or it was them. It could be either. But if it was him, then—

“Wowie, what a funny coincidence Shuichi!”

Kokichi stretched the “ee” sounds in his name. Shuichi snapped around to see the smaller boy excitedly rolling on the balls of his feet. Shuichi asked, “What are you doing here?”

Kokichi grinned. “They sell the best candy at the counter! It’s so fancy, heehee. Too bad you have to get a book to go along with it.”

“I’m pretty sure you can just go ask to buy the candy.”

“No! They judge you if you don’t have a book. Library people stress me out, I don’t wanna be on their bad side.”

Shuichi rolled his eyes. So much for a relaxing day. Kokichi wasn’t awful, but Kokichi was… energy. He was fully prepared to go back to searching the shelves, but figured Kokichi was gonna want to stick around. He capitulated, “Well I’m in need of a book. Help me find one and we can get some candy at the register.”

Kokichi bounced and attentively began to scan the shelves. He quickly grabbed one and flipped it between his palms. 

“How about this one? It’s about a magic artist who makes a lethal museum and has an evil brother and an evil snobby art club who try way too hard to be cool.”

“Maybe. If I can’t find anything else I’ll take that one, but no strong feelings”

Shuichi went back to contemplatively gazing over the shelves. He read the back covers of a few books, wishing they were more descriptive of the actual story rather than just words of praise from various sources he'd only ever heard of on the back of book covers. “Ooo!” Kokichi waved a different book in Shucihi’s face, “There’s a baseball player who fights ghosts with his talking cat!”

Shuichi defensively put his hands up and whined, “Ehh,”

“Good! It was in French anyway.”

“I’m looking for a detective story.”

“Gotcha gotcha” The purple-haired boy peered around, as if thinking, then grabbed another book at random. Shuichi sighed. “There’s a guy who has to find a statue of a sea monster in a dying ocean town and keeps simping over this e-girl!”

But before Shuichi could respond, he froze. Around the shelf came Kaito, hands in his pockets, an annoyed grimace on his face. Shuichi’s eyes darted around. He was cornered. Kaito looked up, saw Shuchi, and sneered. “Oh. Makes sense a friendless shitstain like you would creep around here.”

“Ah-” Shuichi began, but was cut off by a wide-eyed Kokichi, “Wow, nice one Kaito! You can get a good judge of a friendship by the quality of their banter.”

Kaito raised an eyebrow and looked from a defenseless Shuichi to a fanboy-ish Kokichi and by some miracle, he pieced it together. Kaito strutted up and threw an arm around Shuichi, who only trembled a little, and laughed, “Oh yeah! Best buds!”

Kaito continued, "Thanks for gettin Maki and I that stuff on Thursday, by the way. Sorry ya couldn't come, I'll ask Kaede about next time."

Shuichi timidly asked, “S-so Kaito, this isn’t your usual hangout, what’s up—” Shuichi stuttered and forced out the words, “Bro?”

Shuichi could smell him, felt his heat, felt his breath. Kaito played an annoyed look and said, “Just looking for a dumbass book, tryin to learn to throw axes and knives and shit.”

Kokichi bounced, “Ooo! We can help you find it!” Shuichi painfully grinned. It felt important to keep up this lie. He wasn’t sure why Kaito was playing along with it, probably just to torment him. Shuichi grabbed the last book Kokichi found and the three set off to find what Kaito wanted.

“So how’ve you been Shithara? Long time no see, ya know?”

What was he getting at? “Oh. Okay, just normal.”

“Still watchin your psycho tv shows?”

“Yeah…”

“Hey, you’re totally gonna get me the answers for the next chem assignments, right?”

“I- I will. Of course. Man.”

Shit. He’d need to ask Kaito about the knife. But Kaito might get mad about it and drop the charade, in which case his lie would be exposed to Kokichi. And then he wasn’t sure how Kokichi would treat him after that…

But maybe there was a way to pull this off.

“I didn’t bring them with me here… but can I get your answers to you this Tuesday?”

“Hell yeah.”

They reached the teach-yourself book section, or whatever the name for that kind of book is. Programming, woodcutting, and disco dancing for dummies. Kokichi picked up _Introduction to the Impalement Arts_ and handed it to Kaito. “Close enough. Nice, guys,” Kaito said, “great, now I can get outta this lousy place. See ya, _bro_.”

Kokichi spoke up, “Aren’t you gonna pay?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Kaito swaggered away through the aisles, and out of sight. A tension left Shuichi’s shoulders.

The two remaining boys went to the counter, and Shuichi bought Kokichi an eyeball shaped candy in a very shiny crinkly wrapper. Kokichi’s eyes lit up, he unwrapped it and popped the chocolate ball into his mouth. The automatic doors showed them out, into the cool autumn air. The sky had a nostalgic smell to it. Shuichi waved goodbye to Kokichi, and held his book in both gloved hands as he walked home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe i don't *like* a coarse attitude, i'm just distrustful of people who are overly friendly  
after all, if your persona is fake, you may as well make it exceptionally cheery to lure people in
> 
> at least, that's a thought i have. i dont know if it's correct
> 
> also for future reference, this chapter originally uploaded on 7/22/2020  
minor update 10/11/2020, changed a small detail for future continuity


	14. Act II - Fourteen

Shuichi sat at a desk in room 706, mask on, reading the new novel. It was alright. Not quite what he was looking for in terms of a new horizon, but a well composed story. He liked to believe a good story could be a powerful thing. His bag sat on the floor next to him.

“Ohmigod! Is that Kyoko Kirigiri?”

Shuichi jumped a little, what was up with people surprising him as of late? He let out a startled, “H-Huh?”

“The keychain, on your backpack.”

‘Bluejay’ excitedly stood, leaning with her palms on the desk. “You’re a Danganronpa fan? I thought I was the only one!”

“Uhm, yeah, I guess I am.” Oh well. His efforts to evade Danganronpa had once again failed. Some pieces of fiction seemed to stick around like a rock in his shoe. Not that he disliked it—he loved Danganronpa. But there’s always… too much of a good thing. It gets stale, always on your mind.

“I always get crazy obsessed with a new show, and Danganronpa is just the best! The suspense, the gore, the drama! What’s your favorite execution?”

“Well…” in for a penny, in for a pound. Whatever the hell that means. Shuichi closed his book and straightened his gloves like a sprinter at the starting block. “Depends how you count it, personally I found a lot of them serviceable and entertaining, but none from the main series spoke to me as a favorite. I really liked Chiaki’s though, the idea of a blackened-trap like that is so filled with irony. If it counts, Kyoko’s future arc death hit me like a truck.”

“Have you seen the hope arc yet?”

“Ah, I was going to tonight.”

“You’re in for a treat then, Remnant. Wink.” Blue put a pondering finger in the air, “Ye-ah, the ultimate detectives are good, but I prefer the tricksters. Yin and yang I suppose.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a Nagito fangirl.”

“Ehehe! Guilty as charged. He’s just so mysterious and gives so many good twists.”

“He really was one of the best written characters, I understand why he’s still a fan favorite.”

“I would be a trickster if I was in it. I don’t have much of a talent though.” She held her chin with a thoughtful hand.

“Ah. I prefer the detectives. There's lots of good fandom around them too.”

Blue giggled again. “Guess that makes us rivals! Catch me if you can, mister detective~”

Shuichi sighed, but still smiled. Sighled. Smighed? “I look for answers. I like to see a mystery get solved.”

“Got yourself all figured out then, huh?”

“Ah,” Shuichi thought for a second. “I guess…”

“Well I don’t. Just like a character in a story, I’ve got a fatal flaw, Remnant.”

“Huh?” Shuichi was taken aback.

“Hee hee.” Shuichi couldn’t make out her expression under the mask. She continued, “It’s no biggie though.”

There was a lull in the conversation. A lethal one. Blue palmed her phone and promptly thought aloud, “Oooo, one of the fan comics just updated! I gotta get caught up.” She pulled earbuds out from a pocket and put them to the left and right of the plain white mask. 

Shuichi went back to his book. And they each got lost in their own fictional worlds. Separately, but together.

* * *

After the school day had ended, Shuichi had a strange feeling like he wasn’t meant to leave quite yet. Sometimes being in the right place at the right time was all it took. So he found himself more and more often following whims where they led. His last class ended, and he stood still as waves of students flowed around him until it became a small trickle.

Many people stuck around after school, be it for extracurriculars, like the soccer team that used the back field, or just students who loitered in catlike piles around the courtyard. No one really stopped you. Shuichi walked to the back of the school, near the ugly wall clad with posters. But not too close. 

Nearer the parking lot, he jumped up the bleachers, the metal structure thundering with each step. He reached the top, and sat down, the sun glaring at the back of his neck.

He reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook. He usually used it for class, his teachers would yell at you if you weren’t taking notes. Well, he’d only seen it _ really _happen once. But they said you needed to. And he didn’t like to rock the boat.

He kept saying he didn’t want to shock the world, just to be happy getting by. He didn’t get the point of big aspirations that wouldn’t really get you anywhere. Although, it’s easy to say that when you don’t have any.

Bored, he started sketching the Blank Club’s symbol absentmindedly. And then he had a thought. He created a list, a list of questions. It felt important.

“Who is texting me?”

That was number one. He thought, and continued writing.

“Who keyed Ryoma’s car?

What was Kokichi doing with that stuff from the store?

Why was Kirumi’s phone in room 706?

What does the weird poster mean?”

He already knew the answer to the last one, The Blank Club, so he followed it with notes of room 706 and Bluejay, Calamus, Hal, and Ryoma. And then… he couldn’t think of anything else. He played with the idea of writing something about Himiko. But chose not to. He left the book open but put down his pen and put his chin in his gloved hands. He looked at the sky.

The sky was blue like the label on a plastic water bottle. He wanted it to be a sunset so everything could be dramatic, but whatever. He didn’t see many sunsets. Sometimes, when life doesn’t give you anything interesting, you have to make your own adventures. Is what Shuichi thought. He wanted to be an interesting person, someone with stories. A hero. A protagonist. Someone who could change the world.

Someone who had interesting things happen to them, someone put in situations in which they had agency and could _ do _ things that _ mattered _. Shuichi looked back at his notebook. Could he make that for himself? Or was he forcing it?

Shuichi sighed and closed his notebook. He couldn’t think of any other questions to write. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. He just wanted to do something that felt like it mattered. An “adventure” if you can call it that. A story. One with resolutions, conclusions, answers. Where things that happen have significance because they affect and cause other things and… make a plot?

It felt weird to apply those ideas to his real life. Because he was _ real _ and those were things that described fiction. Right?

The sun wouldn’t calm itself, so Shuichi swung his bag over his shoulder and walked home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, life be happening  
anyways, love isn't real, everything i knew is a lie :))))  
i dont know what to do anymore, whatever
> 
> Original Upload Date: 9/20/2020 probly  
Update: Delayed to 10/1/2020


	15. Act II - Fifteen

“W-what are you reading?”

Shuichi timidly asked the masked boy with long dark hair and longer legs, propped up on what would be the teacher's desk. It was impossible to tell if he even registered the comment with the mask over his face. Shuichi almost immediately regretted asking, embarrassing himself in front of someone he saw as… above himself.

“It’s irrelevant—all escapism anyways.”

The Blank Club’s meeting place felt a little less empty on an October afternoon. Maybe because it was possessed; ooooo~ spooky. Shuichi pushed his luck, “What do you um, mean?”

Still staring down at the tome in his hands, Calamus replied, “What do we utilize fiction for other than escaping our bland, pitiful lives?” His attitude was sour; every word was sour like candy you eat by the handful. Even when you scrunch your face each time, you still like it. So Shuichi continued.

“I dunno, I think stories are supposed to enrich our lives and make us appreciate things… or something.”

He sighed, “Yes, indeed, they enrich our lives by transporting us _ somewhere else _. The majority of stories are superior to real life and that’s why people indulge.”

“But don’t characters go through like, hardships and stuff? And challenges and trials and you know, they have to fight.”

“I shouldn’t have to explain why that would be desirable.”

Shuichi didn’t really have a response to that, but after a moment of silence, it didn’t matter because Calamus continued, “I do understand, of course, the power fiction holds on reality. Even if one disagrees with something or does not believe in it, it can be beneficial to comprehend what you are discussing. Even if your conclusion is disagreeing with an idea, that can be an enlightenment of sorts.” His words, although violently sour, still flowed like dark wine from his lips. “That is my wisdom for the day.”

Calamus’s stillness was interrupted by his turning a page of his book. Shuchi held a sort of awe that was hidden by his mask. The whole room held an air to it. 

But that too was broken by the sound of a door opening, and Ryoma stepping in. “Hey all.”

“Supreme overlord, evening.” Calamus snarkily replied. Shuichi gave a small wave.

“How scarring,” Ryoma replied, fiddling with his tie. “No need to be rude to your upperclassmen.”

Calamus turned another page for effect. “Oh please, I thought status had no value here? Or are we really as free as you proclaim?”

Ryoma’s laugh closer resembled a cough. Shuichi timidly watched their banter, unsure how or when to join. But he soon enough didn’t need to, because Ryoma turned to him and asked, “Remnant, could you do me a solid?”

“Preying on the weak like a mountain lion.” Calamus muttered. Ryoma eyed him.

  
“W-what would you like me to do?”

Ryoma put his hands in his pockets, “Have you investigated Kaito yet?”

“I’m seeing him later today.”

“Sharp.”

“Did you report it?”

“Yeah, I talked to the school but they won’t do jack shit.”

Ryoma nudged the knot of his tie around. Calamus held an unreadable expression. The window blinds cast lines of dim light down their faces, and Shuichi attempted to think of something to keep the conversation going. But he couldn’t.

Calamus looked at Ryoma, stared a few seconds, and then called him a useless rich kid who goes to the teachers for help instead of really settling things.

Ryoma was unfazed, “Critic.”

“Cowardly tyrant.”

“Pretentious nerd.”

“Bootlicker.”

“Fuckin’ asshole.”

“Cocksucker.”

Shuichi decided to sit down and maybe eat lunch or something. He let Ryoma and Calamus continue insulting each other until the bell rang and lunch ended. Maybe it was their way of being friends.

Friends who can make fun of each other. Just like that. That’s what friends do.

* * *

Shuichi was back at the school’s outer grounds to meet Kaito. It was near Gonta's haunt, but not near enough to see it. With a school this huge, there were several blindspots from the general public. The autumn sun cast a foreboding glare on Shuichi's back. He wiped his palms on his pants. A confrontation with Kaito was intimidating to say the least. Shuichi knew what to say though, he’d gone over this conversation hundreds of times in his head. He’d cooly whip out the knife, ask Kaito if he knew anything about it. Or maybe he’d ask first, then pull out the knife. Yeah, ask first, probably.

He knew what Kyoko would do.

And then he saw a figure with an unbuttoned jacket and a red undershirt approaching. The first thing that went wrong was how close Kaito stood. Kaito coughed, “So, you gottem?”

Shuichi tried his best to act cool. “Yes, I do. I’ll give you them, I just want to ask a question first.”

“A question?” Kaito laughed and shook his head, “The fuck? Ok.”

“Do you know anything about a knife in the parking lot?” Shuichi balled his gloved hands into fists.

Kaito’s eyes widened as if he’d just been stabbed but wanted to make it seem like no big deal. He looked like he wanted to laugh. “Ohhhh, I see, cool Mr.Detective found my stash. No need to be nervous, I share with friends.”

Shuichi flushed and muttered, “...why do you have to mock me?”

“_ Huuh? _ Whadda you mean, Shithara?”

“You keep calling me your friend. Kokichi isn’t here, so there’s no reason to fake it.” Shuichi sighed.

Kaito scratched his head and grinned, “But we _ are _ friends. Friends share chem answers, and so I’ll let you in on my—” Kaito then used a lot of words Shuichi didn’t recognize, but were likely drug related, “because buddies help each other out. You, me, your boyfriend the half-pint, great friends! I like you Shithara, you’re a _ fun _ dude.”

“_ Stop it! _ ” Shuichi shouted. His eyes widened, realizing his mistake. But he couldn’t backtrack now, so he continued, “You—you’re always an asshole to me, Kaito. I know you’re just trying to piss me off, but stop pretending like it isn’t the case. I _ know _ you hate me. Stop this stupid charade.”

For a moment, Kaito looked mortal. Vulnerable. His mouth fell open, and shut quickly. But then his eyes seemed to light with a harsh, cold flame, like bleeding. “So that’s all I am to you?”

“W—what?” Shuichi felt a bead of sweat run down his back. _ Had I misjudged this all along? _

“Name one time I was a dick to you.” Kaito grumbled.

“Always? Every time we meet?”

“So you’re not gonna listen. Fucking amazing. And you saw my stash, and now you’re gonna be a little bitch and _ tell the teachers _ on me. Why the fuck do you think you’re so damn smart, huh?”

“That’s not what I wanted to ask...”

“Look at you, playing the _ victim _. Like fucking always.”

“Kaito, look. I’m only asking be—”

“No, actually, I think you’re gonna give me my fuckin knife back, you little bitch. And my other shit you stole.”

“I will, just…” Shuichi remembered why he was here in the first place, “tell me if you vandalized Ryoma’s car.”

“HAND IT OVER!”

Kaito loomed forward. Shuichi fumbled with his pockets and took out the knife, which Kaito immediately snatched and wielded. Wasn’t anyone else around? Could nobody come help?

“You, you, fucking, you fucking come out here, accuse me of all sorts of shit, and now you’re like ‘_ oh I was never your friend Kaito. _ ’ Shit _ I didn’t even do _. You’re making me out to be this fucking bad guy that I’m not, because you’re a manipulative piece of shit. See, Saihara, you—yes, you—you’re a worthless, spineless, unforgivable—” Kaito then said something crude and hateful that I will not include here. He continued his tirade, “And you better never fuckin’ forget it, because Shithara, you’re not gonna tell anyone about this, or about what you saw. And you know why? ASK ME WHY YOU’RE NOT TELLING ANYONE.”

“W-why…”

“Because when _ you _ die, _ nobody _ will notice.

  
  
  
  
  


Now give me the damn chem answers, and never let me see your face ever again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published 10/29/2020
> 
> finally starting to feel like something. the story that is, not me  
unearthed repressed memories like a boss also, idk add something good here loser
> 
> also screw parasocial relationships but aha if anyone wants to comment that'd be appreciated, i'd love feedback


	16. Act II - Sixteen

Despair is an insidious thing. In Danganronpa, it’s this big impending force, the big final boss: Miss Enoshima herself. It appears in the real world as it does in fiction as well, as war, as disease, as the loss of loved ones, and the like. Big dramatic events.

But it’s not always like that.

Sometimes, despair is quiet. You could barely even call it the same thing. Quiet despair is feeling alone in a cold world, feeling defeated, like you’ve failed beyond recovery. Like there’s nothing left. 

And like this, no Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History is necessary. It can happen to any normal person. Although some cultures cultivate it more, it can happen almost anywhere. To become silently reclusive, and slip away.

Have you ever felt like you screwed up so bad there’s nothing you can do to fix it?

Have you ever decided the only thing left to do is—

Well, nevermind.

The point is, Shuichi had lost the knife. And so he was in his room, alone. He wished it was raining so the setting would match his tone, but it wasn’t. Beams of benthic darkness crept their way through the windows though. He’d been laying on his bed for some time. He wasn’t sure what else to do.

Could he return to Ryoma? He’d lost their only clue. Had he really just misinterpreted his relationship with Kaito? Was he really in the wrong here? Had he just thrown everything away without even realizing it?

While they seemed weird at first, now that he was meeting them he almost felt like the members of the blank club were above him. They honestly intimidated him at times… though he did want to be friends. He thought. Would they hate him now?

It was like there was nothing. It was like he was nothing. Shuichi didn’t really feel his body. He was clearly nothing like Kyoko, all his time obsessing over Danganronpa was clearly for nothing either. Hope doesn’t exist in real life. This is real life. This is real life. It isn’t a story, it’s real life, and you’re not guaranteed a happy ending. There’s no plot armor in real life.

Cars calmly screeched by outside. Inside, it was silent.

That was, until a buzz from his phone caught his ear. It was probably nothing. He didn’t really want to check, if he was just going to be disappointed. If the outcome is the same no matter what, he may as well not get his hope up only for it to be crushed inevitably.

He checked his phone.

Tues 10:23pm

[i don’t think this world is a good place.]

[apologies for the late response, by the way]

Oh right… the mystery number. He’d asked them a question… almost a week ago. He should… probably respond.

[Do you ever feel like there’s nowhere for you to go?]

The person on the other side began typing a message, then deleted it, then started again, and erased it. It felt like he was forcing himself into other people’s lives, always texting first. The mystery number was nice in a way, someone taking interest in him. He didn’t feel like a burden with them, because he didn’t know who they were.

[i used to have a place.]

[but now… it’s just me, i’m afraid.]

[hehe. the world is unkind to me, but that’s ok.]

[You’re fine with it?]

[although i’d hope for things to be better, the truth is they’re not for me. but i’m happy as long as i am making things better for other people.]

[even if everyone hates me…]

[I’m sure that’s not true]

[saihara, do you have any evidence for that?]

[you unfortunately need proof to determine anything.]

Evidence. He didn’t have that here. He didn’t know who he was talking to.

[I’m not sure about your methods, but you seem like a nice person.]

[people only take advantage of my kindness, but i don’t mind.]

[Why? Why act selfless if people treat you like shit in return?]

[that’s just who i am, saihara.]

[i think i’m just repeating myself now. so i have a question for you instead.]

[is it okay to lie to someone, if it is for their own good?]

[Yeah, I think so]

Shuichi typed that impulsively. He quickly explained,

[It depends on the situation though.]

[Like if the person is going to find out eventually, keeping them in denial can do more harm than good.]

The mystery person stopped and started their message again.

[on a small level, do you not agree that sometimes it is necessary to keep the truth from someone until they are ready?]

[Well, that can be true sometimes too. If you're going to tell someone something like, concerning, you should make sure they’re in the right headspace for it first]

[okay, thank you.]

[what do you think about big secrets?]

[things that will remain hidden forever.]

[No secret can stay secret forever]

[Besides, people think conspiracy theorists are crazy for a reason]

[Big secrets are just a movie thing]

[Because if they were real, they’d come to light eventually]

[There are lots of skilled people who uncover the truth, so…]

Shuichi awaited a reply. He felt a little tense, but wasn’t sure why. Something felt off… but he wasn’t sure what. 

Talking to the mystery number didn’t exactly make him feel better. He _ thought _ it did, and logically it should. It definitely distracted him for the duration of their conversation, but he didn’t feel much different than from when he started. It was like there was something hard to identify with. He had an abstract concept of who this mystery person was in his head, what their personality was probably like. But he lacked any name or face to attach it to.

Is that even necessary though?

[well saihara, whether or not that's true remains to be seen by your performance. lol.]

[You mean your identity?]

[...Should I be worried?]

[oh, please don't get the wrong idea. i will admit, i go to your school. i'm not a stalker or anything.]

[but... i might not be who you think i am.]

[and the truth tends to be... complicated.]

[do you still wish to engage with me, even if i might not live up to your expectations?]

He thought. He was already so far in. And he could back out whenever he wanted. His head filled with a tv static soup. He blinked.

It shouldn't matter. Talking to a person shows you their personality. You can get most of what you need to know to consider someone a friend just by chatting. He wasn't gonna be shallow like everyone else. Appearance shouldn't matter.

[Don't worry, you're a mystery I intend to pursue]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh at the time of writing this was the night where trump got removed from office and also drestiel became canon and i know which one affected me more emotionally  
which is funny  
because i've never seen a single episode of supernatural  
i was regrettably not around for superwholock either, i missed out when i was younger :(  
but because of that, i think the reason it feels so big to me  
is for me, superwholock is like, ancient mythology  
so for some big change with that, like, god  
it's like finding a new book of the bible
> 
> also had the worst halloween of my life this year, nice
> 
> original chapter upload date: 11/08/2020


	17. Act II - Seventeen

Shuichi blurred his way through his classes until the lunch bell rang. He staggered robotically through the crowds. He could’ve sworn he saw Maki give him a sympathetic look when she passed by, but maybe he imagined it. Weird. But he had no time to worry about that, because he was rapidly approaching the thing he was dreading most. How was he supposed to approach the club after a failure like this?

He stood in the hall, right in front of the door. He wondered why he hadn’t seen anyone on their way in. Guess that would ruin the anonymity… Actually. Why was he so worried? These people didn’t even know who he really was. Here, he didn’t have to be Shuichi. He was Remnant, the newest member of The Blank Club. And if they hated him for this mistake, he could jump ship. No big deal. It was peculiar. Normally, he would be too nervous and apprehensive to interact with people. But here, he wasn't worried. He didn't have to be, he wasn't him, they didn't even really know him. And there were no consequences for his mistakes. It was disgustingly empowering.

He made sure nobody was in the hall, then hugged the side of a pillar to ensure he wouldn’t be seen as he put his mask on. And then, he entered the room.

It was grimly quiet. But in a friendly way. Like a nice, friendly apocalypse. A comforting macabre, the warm frigidity of knowing that once you die, there’s nothing else to worry about. Just intangible, endless rest. It was fitting for October.

Hal sat in the back, listening to something on their bulky headphones. Blue had put several desks together, but was sitting alone. She slid small bits of food up under the mask.

“Hey Remnant!” She chirped. 

“Hi…” he mumbled. Didn’t they realize what he’d done?

“Haaaal, come join us.” Hal didn’t respond. Maybe those headphones were noise-cancelling. Blue walked up and waved her hands in front of their face. Hal sat up and mumbled something, then they both sat down at the desks. Shuichi joined them.

It felt awkward to be sitting this close, with the masks on. Blue continued munching on something, so somebody else would have to start the conversation. If they even were going to talk.

Shuichi rolled his gloved fingers on the desk. “So, h-how did you guys choose your codenames?”

There was silence for a few moments. 

“2001: A Space Odyssey is a garbage movie. I should’ve picked something better.”

Shuichi raised his eyebrows at Hal somewhat incredulously, not that anyone saw it happen.

Hal explained, “The first like 20 minutes are just monkeys eff-ing around.”

“Monkey.” Blue hummed knowingly.

“It’s very boring, there’s just these monkeys like, monkeying around for way too long. And then you think it’s finally started because there’s this business dude on a trip to the moon, and he finds this weird obelisk thing, but it turns out that was b-s too because then it _ really _ starts on a spaceship.”

Shuichi questioned, “But isn’t it like, a famous movie? Doesn’t it get good after that?”

“No!” Hal ranted, “there are literally only three characters, and the only one that matters is Hal 9000. And then almost nothing happens and they die and that might sound exciting but I promise it’s not.”

Hal sighed, “And then the guy finds the obelisk or whatever and the remaining like 20 minutes are just a weird… what’s the drug that makes you see things?”

“Acid.” Blue added.

“People take hydrochloric acid!? Doesn’t that kill you?”

“No, Hal, it’s LSD.”

“Oh…” Hal continued, “Anyways, it’s a kaleidoscope of color for the latter third-hour. I have no clue why. Dumb movie.”

“Damn.” Said Shuichi. “What about you, Blue?”

“Ahaha,” she waved her hands, “it’s just my favorite color. No real reason.”

Hal raised a finger, “False. You told me it was a reference to a new Halsey song.” 

“Nooo!” Blue moaned, “No way! That—we said we weren’t gonna talk about that!” She inexplicably buried her masked face in her hands.

“I’m sorry Blue, I’m afraid I can’t do that.” 

Shuichi laughed along. Maybe this was what fitting in was like. He wondered if he could do this kind of thing all the time. There was a comfort in having somewhere to go. Somewhere to be. He couldn’t quite place the word for it. Despite a slight gnawing feeling in his gut, he was happy here.

“The people don’t need to know…” Blue mumbled, “some things can just stay secret forever…” She wilted, but then sat back up. “Let’s do something else! Wanna play a game?”

“Like what?” Hal asked.

Blue rummaged through her bag and brought out pen and paper. “Didn't you guys ever make up games when you were a kid?” She monologued as she scribbled something out, “I was bored in class all the time and would come up with little games.”

“Yeah, I remember doing things like that too,” Shuichi mused, “It’s weird. I know school sucks, but sometimes its monotony provides that circumstance that allows for fun in that way that can’t really happen when you can do whatever you want.”

“Now I usually just look at my phone in class, but I used to come up with so many things like this.” Blue slid the paper to the middle of the table and held her pencil to Hal. “Here, we’re playing three-way tic tac toe. Hal, you’re X, Remnant, you’re O, and I can be triangle.”

Shuichi looked at the four by four modified board. The pencil scratched twice, and Hal handed it to him. Shuichi sketched an O in a corner space, then handed the pencil off to Blue.

Hal spoke, “Oh, I see what you did. You took an existing game and made it your own with some slight additions onto the structure.”

“If you mean it’s more fun like this, then yeah.” Blue replied and gave Hal their turn, “With three people and just a little more space you actually have to pay attention. You still only need three in a row, so it’s easier to win, but there’s more players trying to stop you and who you need to keep an eye on.”

“Unless you team up to screw one person.” Hal grinned. “Remnant, put one here to stop her.”

Shuichi followed their instruction and spun the pencil. Blue whined, “No fair!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Upload Date: 11/22/2020  
god, i cant believe it's been a year  
like really, at the start i was like "oh i'll do 6 chapters an act" lmao look at me now  
there'll probably be like, 4 more before act 2 is done  
i both cant believe it's only this far by now and cant believe im still working on it  
i should've finished this thing ages ago  
it was supposed to save someone.... who's long gone now  
oh well
> 
> in other news, i finally got to see the danganronpa girl again. she kins nagito and kokichi  
._.  
idk how serious that was, but either way i dont really mind  
but still, lmao


	18. Act II - Eighteen

The weeks passed by in the same way, with Shuichi regularly attending his secret club meetings. The plastic of his mask was starting to bend in places from carrying it in his bag. It should be fine though.

Having a place to be felt nice, but something was still missing. School ended, and though the club sometimes met after school, he decided to head home anyways. He knew the way like the back of his hand, having walked it day after day. And yet, he still found new things to look at. Mid-October, the trees oranged, and the evening fell faster. The sun hadn’t set but was palpably suspicious. 

The sidewalk was still cracked in the same places, and a few new ones as the years went by. His shoes still made the same sounds on the concrete. But the trash on the side of the road was new, the cars were different each day, the people who passed by, though rare, were always different.

But those things weren’t what made it feel new. It was definitely the season. October’s distinct atmosphere. It made him feel the desperate need to do something. Like that one night. He’d be home in about half an hour. Half an hour of oxygen left, before he was suffocating again.

Maybe that’s what the Blank Club was missing. He could only see them in the secret club room. They couldn’t really see his life outside of that. They couldn’t go places together, do things together. Right?

Or are words alone enough to impact someone’s life?

Are they enough to be truly present?

Shuichi played with his gloved fingers.

He hated feeling like his time was slowly slipping away.

But today, he was lucky. He thought, as he saw a short figure grow closer. The figure began cheerfully waving. Shuichi raised a hand.

“Hey Shuichi! Look!” Kokichi held under one arm a large black box with a hole on the front face and a small hole with a cap on the top. A power cord was coiled together behind it.

“Is that a fog machine?” He asked. Kokichi nodded. “I can guess where you got it from.”

“Ehehe, along with a few other goodies too! I’m excited to see what you and Kaito are gonna do with this stuff.”

A pit formed in Shuchi’s stomach and sent ripples through his bones. But if he showed it, Kokichi didn’t notice. He played with his fingers again and probed, “Ha—Have you seen Kaito recently?”

“Nope,” Kokichi frowned, “but he texted me to get this! I bet it’s for Halloween. I’m excited!” His eyes lit up, and he began counting on his fingers, “Three weeks away! Maaaan, it blows that it’s on a Monday though. I bet we’re still gonna get homework,” he coughed into his fist, “Not that I care about dumb stuff like homework though. I’m not gonna do it.”

Even if he was a bad liar, Kokichi could certainly go through emotions like popcorn from the bucket. Shuichi wondered if that made him happy. Or more accurately, satisfied with life. It was good that he hadn’t talked to Kaito though. But if he was on terms with Kaito, then maybe… “You hear about that car in the parking lot?”

Kokichi’s eyes glowed maliciously, and a wide grin spread on his face. He tilted his head to the side, and wind scattered leaves at his feet. “Ohhh… “ he drew his words slowly, “word sure has spread like wildfire about that incident. Ryoma must be fuming!” He giggled a little, “Someone popular like you must have heard the rumors.”

Right. Kokichi still thought… right. Shuichi didn’t talk to anyone, had rumors really spread? He had no idea. But he was lucky today. He knew about this case. “Yeah, I heard some insane things. I mean, everyone’s won—wondering who could have done it.” He stopped messing with his hands and brushed hair out of his face. “D—do you know anything… about it?”

“No clue. I didn’t have a thing to do with it.” Kokichi giggled again, “Nope, no way! It wasn’t me.”

Shuichi stared him down.

“But.” Kokichi added, “If Ryoma wants to question me anyways, well, I can’t say no to that. But there’s lots of suspects, maybe we need a lineup! It could’ve been Kaito, or Gonta, or who knows! I didn’t cut up his car.”

What did Kokichi want?

They locked eyes, and the warm wind flowed around them. The sidewalk ached under the weight.

Shuichi took a stab in the dark.

“I can contact Ryoma, if you want.”

The shorter boy feigned fear, taking a step back and shuddering, “Oh! One of the most powerful boys in school, in the clique with both Ryoma and Kaito, has me pinned down! Forcing me into his interrogation! Pulled into the dark underbelly of the school.”

Shuichi looked past the dramatics, “He’ll text you the time and place, probably.”

“I’ll see him later then. Anyways, I’ve got places to be.” Kokichi gestured to the fog machine. “Bye-bye.”

Shuichi waved farewell, and Kokchi continued down the sidewalk behind him. He tried, and failed, to whistle as he made his exit. Shuichi paused and watched, gears turning in his head.

As soon as he got home, he pulled out his notebook and threw it onto his desk, bumping the miniature pumpkin. He flipped it open and found the list of mysteries. He sketched a section for the “Who keyed Ryoma’s car?” part and wrote the first name.

Kaito. His knife was found in a stash near the crime scene, he’s just _ so _ suspicious. Delinquent, troublemaker, a bully who gets in fights and seems to relish violence. And toying with his prey. But Shuichi thought back to their confrontation. He said he didn’t do it. It felt… genuine. That whole rant.

Then, the second name. Kokichi. With a question mark after it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i lost everything that was important to me  
and  
it's all my fault
> 
> ...
> 
> uploaded 12/3/2020, written in advance


	19. Act II - Nineteen

He was afraid to see Ryoma, having failed so badly. But Shuichi couldn’t just give up the Blank Club, could he? Over a week had passed. It was Wednesday, _ next _ Wednesday. He’d spent his lunches for the week hiding outside. He was lucky, he thought, having never run into Kaito.

Maybe a break from the club was a good thing. Gave him more time to read, he guessed. But it felt… insecure. So… it was time for Shuichi to own up for his mistakes. He’d been waiting outside the door for way too long. He put on the mask, and entered room 706.

Blue stood at the back of the room, posed like a ballerina. It was extra doll-like with the mask. Creepy. Something felt really off about it, but he wasn’t sure what. 

“We—e—elcome Remnant.” She bellowed as she began to slowly spin.

Shuichi stared blankly. “Hi?”

Her voice had a floaty quality. “We’re all beautiful here, aren’t we?”

“I… guess?”

“Flawless, like a jewel. Pretty diamonds like sparkling eyes.” She hummed a melody like a music box. “Do you want to see _ my _ eyes? They sparkled once.”

“What, uh, happened?"

“He took a chisel. Now they’re empty sockets. I need something, Remnant.” She finished her spin, and turned to face him. “I want to see again.” She took a step forward. She spewed in a harsh whisper,

“_ I need yours. _”

  
  


The door opened behind him, “Blue, what the fuck.”

“Ryomaaa,” Blue whined, “you interrupted my possessed doll bit.”

“Ryoma!” Shuichi shot up a little and turned to face him.

“Yo.” Ryoma walked over to the side wall and leaned against it.

“I have an update on the investigation.”

“You’re still doing that? Uh, okay I guess. Show me what you got.”

“Well…” Shuichi sighed, and sat down at the nearest desk. Blue tilted her head and watched silently. “I confronted Kaito. He… he took the knife. I’m sorry!”

“I don’t give a shit about the knife, we just need to know if he’s the one who did it.”

“Really? I… “ Shuichi hastened his breathing, then slowed it. He laced and unlaced his fingers. “Well… he said he didn’t do it.”

“Well fuck—that’s our lead gone then.”

“Wait!” Shuichi cut in, “I might have another suspect. Kokichi, this guy I’ve seen around with Kaito a lot, said he would be willing to meet with us. He sounded suspicious, like he knew something.”

“I dunno… this might just be a, what do you call em? A cold case.”

“No!” Blue bounced excitedly, “We can totally bring him here for an interrogation! It’d be super cool, we can all stand in the dark with our masks in a v-formation, like a student council in an anime.”

Ryoma played with his red tie, pulling the short side to tighten it. Blue put her hands together and pleaded, “Please~?”

“Fine,” he conceded, “but I can’t be assed to deal with it. You two really up for putting it together?”

* * *

Kokichi had received a text from an unknown number, and naturally, he followed its instructions.

[Come to room 706 at lunch on Friday. Our organization would like to hear what you know about the incident involving Ryoma’s car.]

Seemed easy enough. It was so exciting! Just like—

Well…

It didn’t matter what it was like. Kokichi was just happy to be in the real big leagues now. He stood in front of the door, and stared at his reflection in the checkered glass window, blocked with a poster on the other side. He knocked.

The door swung open inwards as if on cue, a shadowy figure on the other side. The room was an inky black spider web, with the rustling legs of a black widow hiding just out of sight. Kokichi entered. The chair legs screeched against the floor as it was shoved into the center of the room, just barely masking the sound of the door clicking shut behind him.

A cone of blinding light hit his face, forcing him to squint.

“Kokichi Oma, please, have a seat.”

He took the chair and crossed his legs. With the flashlight aimed at him, he could make out four masked figures. The tallest one held the light. Was there someone else behind them too? Maybe just his imagination. He could swear he saw a red dot in the darkness too. Kokichi laced his fingers together and rested them on his knee, “Sooo, I wanna know what your guys' deal is before I tell ya anything. If you find the person you’re looking for, what exactly are you gonna do to ‘em?”

A figure in a dress answered him, “I hope you would be familiar with Ryoma Hoshi. With us already knowing so much about you, and with his influence, it would be only trivial for us to spread the word of what you did, along with your phone number, social media accounts, maybe even address if we feel like it.”

“You shouldn’t expect myself or my associates to be merciful,” the tallest one added, “as we are already fully cognizant of your implication in this crime. You were witnessed purloining a weapon from a secret hideaway, which you used to proceed with the vandalism.”

A more childish voice from a different masked figure interjected, “Huh, but I thought all Gonta said was that it was Kaito’s stash, he didn’t see anything else, right Remnant?”

The tall one sighed. “Hal, yes, of course nobody saw it happen. I was bluffing. I ask that you refrain from revealing our hand all at once, troglodyte.”

Kokichi giggled, “Oh man, I had no idea the circus was in town.”

And then, a familiar voice cut the air, “I’ll start the questions, but ah, I’d like to add…” Kokichi couldn’t quite place it, but it felt very… like the face of an old classmate you’d long forgotten the name of. Whoever it was continued, “It’s probably for the best we don’t try to intimidate him too much. Lots of times innocent people are bullied into confessions for crimes they didn’t do because the interrogators go too hard on the ‘pretending to already have evidence on the culprit’ bit.”

Peering through the eye holes in the mask, Shuichi tried his best to read the room. It was hard to tell with everyone else masked, but Kokichi seemed to be eyeing him oddly. He gulped.

“So Kokichi, I’d like to know where you were on the evening of Thursday September 29th.”

“Oh boy, it’s been a while. Thursday, two weeks ago? Pretty sure I went to all my classes, normal day jazz, walked home after.”

“What about lunch? Anything unusual?”

“Uh… I don’t really remember.” Kokichi grinned.

“Do you think we could see your attendance records as proof?”

“That’s confidential info!” Kokichi pouted, “But I’ll do it in exchange for candy.”

“Homework maybe? Receipts if you bought anything for lunch?”

“You think I do homework?”

Hal cut in, “Why are we asking about lunch? I thought—” “Hush.” But was quickly silenced by Ryoma.

Shuichi continued, “What were you wearing?”

“Just my regular, plain uniform, I don’t accessorize much.”

“Have you visited the parking lot at all recently?”

“Nope!”

Shuichi thought. There was one question, just the right thing to ask to make Kokichi split this wide open like a geode. He reached for it, like trying to find the long side of your blanket in the dark.

“On this day in particular, did anyone see you?”

Kokichi paused. His mouth flattened into a straight line.

“No.”

Shuichi thought for a moment. He sensed _ something _, but he wasn’t sure what. His train of thought was interrupted by a sharp elbow to the side. He turned to glance at Calamus, who stepped forward and turned to face Shuichi, mask-to-mask.

“No, Remnant, I’m afraid we don’t have any evidence on Kokichi. Because he isn’t our suspect. Those shoes belong to you.”

“Huh!?” Shucihi fell back on his foot. 

“Indeed,” Calamus continued, “All the threads weave into a tapestry of your visage: the detective himself as the culprit. Your gloves leave no fingerprints, you cover your tracks by pointing possession of the key weapon towards someone else. But you foolishly forgot about the security camera. You’re caught red handed.”

That finally fazed Kokichi. A bead of sweat swelled on his forehead. “No way josé, that can’t be right!”

Calamus grimly spied his way, “Oh, _ apologies _, does our guest have any insight to our investigation? This whole thing has been a mere trap for the detective here.”

“Mhm!” Blue added, “We’ve really pinned you now!”

Shuichi whimpered a little.

Until Kokichi interjected, “Nooo dummy, don’t you remember? The security camera was down for the count.”

Shuichi’s voice cracked, “Huh, what do you mean…”

“Look,” Kokichi bragged, “I’ll spell it out for you slowpokes. Someone came and covered the camera in duct-tape, it didn’t see nothin’!”

Calamus slowly clapped his hands. He smirked under the mask. “Oh, bravo, Kokichi, truly, well done.” Shuichi dusted off his pants, and Blue giggled in the darkness. Calamus continued, “And how, may I ask, do you know about that?”

“W—well, ahahah—” Kokichi slowly stood up from the chair. He was sweating more. “I just uh, saw it passing by one day.” He brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the harsh light.

Shuichi pointed out, “You said you haven’t been to the parking lot. And even if you ‘just passed by’, the duct tape was taken down over the weekend, so the only way you would know that is if you were there on the day of the crime.”

Kokichi’s eyes lit up. He grinned slyly. His face made it seem like he was loving this. Hal’s video camera beeped, and they whispered to Ryoma. 

Ryoma stepped into the light, and fidgeted with the neck of his tie. “Why don’t you leave this room, and if you keep that mouth shut, maybe everyone will forget about this little, uh, accident, after a few months. We’ll see you ‘round, Kokichi.”

Kokichi laughed nervously and slipped back out of the door. Shuichi pondered to himself. They did it. They caught him, the plan worked perfectly. He and Calamus lured Kokichi into exposing his own lie, and Hal got it all on video. Ryoma and Blue could work on what they were actually gonna do to him later.

It was fulfilling. In a weird way. Shuichi finally put his skills to good use. With the evidence he found, and the interrogation he had a hand in, they could bring a criminal to justice. Or uh, they figured out Kokichi was the one who scratched up the car. It sounds less impressive that way.

  
  


Hal and Blue high-fived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQZ0qbkKbZ4  
what a fantastic realization
> 
> originally posted 12/12/2020


	20. Act II - Twenty

September 30, 4 Years Ago.

They were in her room. His room was the same boring, clean, blank space it always has been. But hers was messy, and warm, and familiar, with trinkets and old birthday cards and plastic trophies and scrappy posters. They tended to stay at her house.

The light coming through the window was a hazy yellow, the kind of evening sunlight that cast shadows like cryptids, like alien invaders stepping out of a ship. Windows are important like that.

Himiko lay on the bed, a hand curled behind her strawberry head, another tapping her fingers the comforter. Shuichi took a beanbag close by. Hands holding his knees, but relaxed. Recently dated music, like a photograph, flowed out of a set of speakers. Convection currents took it to drift along the ceiling. 

Nothing needed to be said, it felt. The atmosphere was almost perfect. Shuichi let out a sigh, and the music slowed its tempo. Himiko tilted her head to look out the window. It was one of those rare times when you could see the moon during the day. Dusk in this case. Day moons don’t glow like night moons, they just float like a balloon let go and drifting away towards infinity.

Before it has to fall back down and get caught in a power line. Several of those, old wooden ones, stood like trees. No particular type.

Another still moment. He somehow remembered things best in still moments.

* * *

The tedium of everyday life is relentless, it doesn’t stop for you, no matter how exciting of an adventure you’re on. Most stories skip it over for the sake of the audience. That’s not for no reason, while you’re in your average life, school, work, whatever, it doesn’t feel noteworthy. Even if you’re not zoning out, it’s hard to remember afterwards, it just blends together.

Shuichi sat in math class.

He closed the book in his lap. Most teachers didn’t care if he wasn’t paying attention. Those that did were annoying. He didn’t feel like reading though. It’s the same thing he does every day, even with the investigation to spice things up, life still felt bland. Shuichi rested his chin in one gloved hand.

That’s crazy, right? He finally has something cool, admittedly sometimes scary, but something _ interesting _ and _ tangible _ happening to him. And he’s still having to sit through classes. Class. Mortality is a grand concept, everyone knows you only have a limited time on Earth, so you have to spend it well. Sitting in high school, he lost time like one loses blood to leeches. But maybe it could be a breather from the high-strung secret club and investigation.

Speaking of, now that the investigation was over, Shuichi realized he had no idea what comes next. Like, they figured out Kokichi did it, great, but now what? They can’t really report it to the school. Do they get the police for this? He had no experience with the law. Maybe? He was thoroughly unsure. Ryoma said he’d do something about it. It didn’t feel quite right, but there weren’t many other options. 

The bell rang. Shuichi haunted his way through the packed hallways. Everyone seemed tired on the foggy Monday morning. Shuichi pushed some strands of hair away from his face so he could see, then a few back in place. He stretched his arms as much as he could as he walked. 

Mornings like this made him want someone to smack him over the head with a crowbar.

Actually, it was a bit of an unusual morning. He was thinking. That was different. Usually in his morning classes he was far too exhausted for thought. It was like he was zoned out until like noon. Rhythmic, in a weird way.

He escaped the vortex of bobbing heads and pushed open the door to his next class. There was a sort of heat with so many people together in one place. He didn’t think about them too much though. Just faces in the crowd.

He slid into the plastic chair. He felt like he should be doing something, but he didn’t know what. What could be done in a place like this? So many stories and messages of hope, and yet here he was. He took out his book and bored the day away.

* * *

Shuichi meant to spend a calm lunch alone, in the club room to hide from Kokichi and Kaito. He didn’t expect it to fill up with the rest of the Blank Club. Hal tipped their hat over their eyes, curled up in the cubic window frame, headphones on. Calamus put his long legs up on the teacher’s desk, and Ryoma leaned on the wall by the door. Shuichi took a desk at the back. Blue stood up from the food at her desk, and proposed an interesting question.

“Are we gonna do anything for Halloween?”

It was silent for a moment, before Ryoma replied, “Jesus Blue, we _ just _ had a big event, you want another?” She wilted a little. Ryoma continued, “I’m kidding. We still have to deal with Kokichi, but after that, you got anything in mind?”

“Well… not really… but I can figure something out!”

Shuichi looked up from his book, “A Halloween party?” He’d never been to one before. It sounded fun. Or something, not that he cared about that.

“We can’t use this room, the school gets locked after hours.” Calamus said bluntly.

“Has anyone gotten locked in here, staying after school closes?” Shuichi wondered aloud. 

Nobody else was answering so Hal spoke up, “Not that I am aware of."

Ryoma thought aloud, "'d have to break a window to get out."

Hal pulled their headphones down and turned their head to look at everyone. "Anyways…" they asked curiously, "what are you two doing about Kokichi?"

Ryoma chuckled. 

“We got the video. All of you guys are masked up—barely visible in the dark, and we can cut out the parts with me in it no problem.”

“Mhm, we’re gonna spread around the footage and destroy his reputation,” Blue beamed dreamily.

Hal scratched their neck. They commented, “It feels like something from a movie.”

“Yeah! Our awesome secret club did something cool! Revenge!”

“It does finally bring us credibility to the mystique.” said Calamus.

Shuichi dropped his chin into his palm. It felt nice to be part of something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Publication Date: 12/21/2020  
Update: Delayed to 12/23/2020
> 
> https://theblankclub.carrd.co/  
i have an ominous thing now
> 
> "I know I'm an artist  
Cause I just can't stand the thought  
That a love as beautiful  
As ours  
Could be
> 
> Forgotten"


	21. Act II - Twenty-One

The following week was monotonous as ever. Same boring classes, same lost time, same reading not for enjoyment but for escapism. Sound familiar?

There’s no pacing in real life. But for your sake, Eye will speed things up. The purpose for this is to maintain tension. I do not feel it dishonest because in real life the tension would be there constantly, but the only way to replicate it in a narrative is to jump around some.

So I assure you that Shuichi did in fact live out the following two weeks, but nothing too noteworthy happened. He spent more time with The Blank Club, reaching friendly terms with Blue and Hal, and at least being tolerated by Calamus. He got more texts from the mystery number late at night. Kaito was suspiciously missing. The usual.

The video of Kokichi, caught with his metaphorical pants down, has spread among the student body, in the same way news of a teen pregnancy would. Kokichi got on Ryoma’s bad side, and for that reason, almost everyone was wary to associate with him. For the past two weeks he’s only gotten terse replies, and he’s in turn been weaving on and off campus more frequently.

Kokichi strangely didn’t seem to mind too much. Shuichi sat up on the rickety metal bleachers and watched Kokichi walk by. People either eyed him nervously or looked down when he passed. Kokichi blew them kisses.

Today is Friday, October 28th. The air is crisp, slightly chilly but warmed by the sun. It’s a school spirit rally for Halloween, which means it’s guaranteed to blast loud, annoying music, and have all the sports teams do a stupid dance. Then the student council will probably announce the theme of the next school dance in some elaborate manner, which Shuichi would definitely ignore. He put his chin in his gloved palm and sighed. He should’ve brought his book.

The real surprise of the day, however, was who sat next to him. Maki. She smoothed her blue blazer and matching skirt, sat down, and slouched a little. Neither noticed the other for a minute. The PA system beeped to life.

“Attention student body, the outdoor field speaker system is currently nonfunctional, so please enjoy a visual performance from your very own football team. School spirit!”

Maki scoffed. Without music, it was pathetically obvious that it was a bunch of random high school kids jumping around, given artificial status that evaporates once they leave the school grounds. People cheered in the front rows to try to make up for it. Anyways, enough of the edgy “i’m-so-much-smarter-than-them-even-though-my-secret-club-does-the-same-thing” high school critique; both Shuichi and Maki turned to each other at once and shot up in their seats.

“Oh! Hey.” said Maki. Without the blasting speakers, he could actually hear her.

“Hi.” Shuichi awkwardly replied.

She bashfully yet charismatically scrunched and un-scrunched her face, “I don’t think we’ve met officially before. I’m Maki.”

“S—Shuichi Saihara. Ah, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah.” Maki collected her thoughts for a moment. “I’m… sorry about how Kaito’s treated you. I talked to him about it. He promised me he’d stay back, so… yeah.”

“Ah… thank you.” Mumbled Shuichi.

“I hate unnecessary cruelty like that. Speaking of… “ she sighed and rolled her eyes, “have you seen that stupid video of Kokichi going around?”

Shuichi balled his fists and swallowed. “Um yeah, I have.”

“I _ really _ don’t need another person to babysit. Seriously, I asked him about it and he was like, ‘yeah, I did it with this!’ and pulled out a letter opener. Apparently he’s been carrying it around to show off. Little attention seeker.”

“Yeah,” Shuichi said cautiously, “Kokichi is an… interesting character.”

“Tell me about it.” Maki sighed and rubbed her temples. Despite her seemingly exhausted state, she wasn’t awkward at all. “I really want the best for these people. I want them to learn to choose the best for themselves.”

“Are you talking about Kaede, Rantaro, and Kaito?”

Maki half-smiled at him. “Yeah.” She blinked. “Sorry, I don’t mean to vent.”

“No, it’s alright. Ah, I don’t mind listening. If you’re okay, of course.”

“My friends aren’t bad people, but… I know they can make some bad decisions. But we all have bad parts. If everyone cut people off at the slightest mistake, we’d all be friendless losers,” Maki laughed in a way part sarcastic part melancholy.

“No offense, but Kaito’s kind of an asshole.”

Maki gave him a look that said, “Really?” but in a friendly way. The crowd cheered in the background. “They’re my friends because they have good parts too. It’s nice seeing them be good people. They’re chill when they’re with me, so I stick with them to help them be good friends. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” said Shuichi. Maki didn’t seem convinced. “No, really. I know people like that too, I think… “ Shuichi thought about the club. Calamus could be harsh, Ryoma was intimidating, and even Blue had a weird sadistic streak at times. “People who’re far from perfect can still make good company. If it’s what you’ve got. And if there’s problems, you can work them out eventually.”

Maki looked at him. “Pleased to meet you, Shuichi.” She reached out her hand. Shuichi shook it calmly. 

Despite the apparent logic of everything they just said, neither of them were happy. They both looked back at the junior army marching in line down the football field. The only sound was the pounding of their feet and their mock guns on the ground. Until Maki spotted Kokichi again, sitting on the bleachers on the opposite side.  
  
“Kokichi though… he follows Kaito around like a lost puppy, but God, he’s… confusing. Kaede still won’t let him hang out with us, so I tried to be nice to him like, once last month. He skipped class with me after lunch to get coffee. But apparently he was busy keying a car the same day. I should’ve known he was a little creep.”

And Shuichi was suddenly rigid and tense again. Apparently his involvement with the club was gonna make him nervous whenever he talked to people now. “Uhm… that was September 29th?”

“Don’t know, probably. Whichever day it happened.”

“Ah…”

They both sat for a few minutes more, until the student council announced the rally was over and everyone funneled down the bleachers which rattled with every step. Maki waved bye to Shuichi.

Shuichi waved back and wandered to his next class, head above the clouds—probably somewhere in the upper stratosphere. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally written 1/8/2021  
delayed publishing to 1/18/2021
> 
> got rejected by danganronpa girl hehe
> 
> mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm i hate it i ahte i hat ei h i ti  
oh we're aproaching the end of act 2 2 by the h teh th e  
by the way


End file.
